


1 Year Until Now

by keithislactoseintolerant



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Klancemas 2018, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithislactoseintolerant/pseuds/keithislactoseintolerant
Summary: " He laid the envelope against the mat at the entrance of the Kogane household, rang the doorbell and scurried off like a frightened creature of the night. Shiro opened the door slowly, clearly unexpectant of visitors at a time like 7 am. But he looked down at his feet and held the envelope in his palms, read the title and looked in Lance's direction.He gave the man a soft smile and got one in return. Shiro nodded and Lance knew his letter would be delivered to Keith.It's been a year since they broke up.365 days.8,760 hours.525,600 minutes.A year since they'd parted... and a year until now."





	1. Prologue

1 year.

  
365 days.

  
8,760 hours.

  
525,600 minutes.

  
1 year since the two had broken up.

  
365 days since they had decided to become their own people and relearn what it was like to be alone and 8,760 hours since they realized that the balance of their relationship had been lopsided. The scale overturned, chipped and stained.

  
525,600 minutes too long.

  
These are the thoughts that ran rampant through Lance’s mind against the distant white noise of the café customers chatting with partners and groups in their own individual booths. The morning sunlight grazed his freckled skin and the coldness of the empty seat that lingered eerily beside him was as apparent as ever. He could feel the ghost of his former boyfriend’s laugh echoing against the glass window on the right. A mirage of his black hair draped against the table in sheer exhaustion as he ran—or how he used to run his cold fingertips through the dark, lanky strands.

  
“-ir… Sir?” Lance turned his head from the direction of the window towards the voice that called out for him. He remembered how Keith used to say it. Deep and brooding like it was the most important word he knew. Like it could cure all things and do no wrong as long as the letters were to only escape his lips and his only. Lance wished he still felt that way.

  
“Sorry… I’m a bit out of it this morning if you couldn’t already tell.” His voice was at almost a whisper, a dog whistle in the wind.  
The waitress looked at the boy with pity. Looked at the way his spine was bent over as if experiencing an agonizing pain. The way his shoulders cowered and his fingers were loosely folded almost in prayer. Maybe praying for a magical entity to relieve his sorrow and strengthen his spine, which he was clearly lacking; at least in the waitress’ eyes.

  
“Yeah, kid. It’s pretty clear. Now, ya’ gonna order something other than a lemonade this morning or should I just put my notepad away and grab the usual?” she asked, clearly agitated.

  
Lance, for a moment, recognized the waitress’ subtle beauty in the spotlight of the sun. The way her hair, black and full, wrapped around her neck and shoulders; almost constricting her like a snake. Her nails manicured and left uncolored, only sheer and glistening.

  
He lifted his head slowly to meet her eyes, and gasped softly, realizing the saddening reason he’d even noticed her looks in the first place. Her eyes gleamed a mixture of dark grey and purple and Lance thought to himself glumly, she looks like Keith. “Yeah, Mila. You already know, a small lemonade.”  
“Who drinks ice cold lemonade in the winter anyway?” she asked.

  
“Me,” Lance answered deadpan and unfeeling, not trying to urge any other questions and not exactly doing the wonders he’d hoped for.

  
“You know you come here every morning,” she said like it wasn’t something obvious and a fact the boy didn’t already know himself, “Why? You never come with anyone else and you’re always gazing out the window like some prince is gonna ride in and snatch you up out of this hellhole. What’s your deal?”

  
“Nothing. I just like it her—” And that’s when he saw it, “Ok, Mila. Shut up for a second… please.”

  
The reason he dragged his lifeless body out from between the warmth of his sheets each and every morning an hour too early to drive to a café without a single decent item on the menu besides a small cup of lemonade. The reason he dealt with an insufferable waitress who didn’t know how to read when a person clearly wasn’t in the mood to exchange words and didn’t know when or even how to keep her boundaries.

  
A figure stumbled frantically down the sidewalk to the bus stop a few feet past where Lance sat. One hand clinging to his grey beanie and the other cradling his bookbag like a football down towards the end zone; desperately trying to reach the bus before it pulled off and left him in the wake of his own anxiousness.

  
Lance stared out at the other boy and Mila looked at him with her eyebrows scrunched and lips rolled inwards, processing the view she was getting of a pining Lance McClain. “Oh… I get it now. No need to spill your heart out to me. I get it. But a word of advice? If I ever knew a guy or girl who looked at me the way you look at him even when he runs as ridiculous as that, I’d love them for an eternity so I say go for him—”

  
He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in his lungs. Keith really did suck all of the oxygen out of him. “We broke up a year ago. It’s been a year today. December 13th. A day that’ll haunt me until I die because it’s the day that I lost the love of my life.”

  
“Well you’re definitely one for the drama, aren’t you? Just putting that out there but, no one’s sayin’ forget about all that. Just, at least learn somethin’ from it. You clearly have feelings for him… strong ones at that. All I’m sayin’ is think about how you want your future with him to look. Do you wanna spend an eternity only looking at him through a glass pane? ‘Cause that’s what your life is gonna look like with you mopin’ around in my café.”

  
Lance looked at her and then back at his hands clasped together. Saw how the sunlight brushed against the empty seat in front of him and realized the saddening silence that seeped from it.

  
“Mila, do you have an envelope?”

  
“Yeah, sure kid. Just give me a second.”

  
The boy pulled out a blank sheet of copy paper from his bookbag and flattened its crease along the table as he listened to Mila rummage through unorganized drawers for an envelope. He pulled out a black ballpoint pen and started to write. Started to translate the untranslatable. Aka, the feelings that he’d kept in his own personal version of Pandora’s box for so, so long.

  
Mila hustled back with a cream envelope in hand, “Got it!”

  
He finished scribbling the last few words after looking at his phone to see that the time was creeping up on him and soon, he’d be late for school if he didn’t speed the process up. He hurriedly folded the paper to fit the shape of the envelope, licked the edges of the casing and doodled a cursive 𝒯𝑜, 𝒦𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽 on the front.  
“Thanks, Mila. I owe you one,” Lance said as he grabbed all of his belongings and dashed out the front door of the café with a bell’s ring in his wake.  
“No problem, kid! Maybe one day you’ll come in here and actually buy something other than lemonade!”

  
“I did that once! Never again,” he said.

  
Lance ran all the way to his white sedan out in the parking lot out back and took a stop at Keith’s house on his way to their school. He clasped the envelope in his hands and let his fingertips run freely against the material. His time limit didn’t give him much of a chance to be nervous or hesitant because it was now or never, in a sense.

  
He laid the envelope against the mat at the entrance of the Kogane household, rang the doorbell and scurried off like a frightened creature of the night. Shiro opened the door slowly, clearly unexpectant of visitors at a time like 7 am. But he looked down at his feet and held the envelope in his palms, read the title and looked in Lance’s direction.

  
He gave the man a soft smile and got one in return. Shiro nodded and Lance knew his letter would be delivered.

  
It’s been a year since they broke up.

  
365 days.

  
8,760 hours.

  
525,600 minutes.

  
A year since they’d parted… and a year until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~STRAWBERRY~  
> {1,354 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	2. Day 1- A Partridge In A Pear Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And soon, he was there. Staring into the glowing eyes of Lance McClain squished between the branches of their childhood play tree.  
> “Hey!” he yelled up when Lance turned his head, his hair seemingly swaying in slow motion against the rain and cool breeze, “Why are you still here? I thought you’d be home by now."  
> “I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here if you thought I’d be gone?”  
> The questions lingered in the air as the two stared at one another, face to face.  
> “I wanted to test my luck. You?” he asked.  
> “I wanted to see if the universe would even let me stand a chance. Seems I made a safe bet.”

                Keith walked along the sidewalk towards his home through the rushing winter winds. Small droplets fell from the sky quietly and he almost didn’t notice them sinking aimlessly between the fibers of his coat. The echo of his feet clopping against the concrete ground hit his ears, almost as if it were the only sound he could hear on his lonesome, silent walk through his static neighborhood.

                He stumbled over a tiny crevice and tripped, falling to his knees and crumbling in on himself within the silence of the street. He stretched out his legs and arms against the dampening grass of a stranger’s front lawn— that looked like it could belong it any other suburban neighborhood— and laid his crossed hands behind his head, giving it a place to rest. The wind rustled through one ear and scurried out the other and blew droplets that attached themselves to his eyelashes.

                With his eyes shut he sat there, willing to catch a cold if it meant this silence could be his for the taking. Just for a moment, buried in its wake rather than swallowed by his own inner voice. But, all of a sudden, he heard a faint whisper calling his name.

                “Keith… is that… you?” The boy sat up, straightened his spine, and craned his neck.

                “Allura!” the boy said in surprise, “I didn’t even realize this was your house! My bad.”

                “I don’t care about you laying in my lawn you idiot. Why are you out here in the rain? And in winter for quiznack’s sake?” She hurriedly offered him a glove-covered helping hand, the other wrapped around her waist holding together the edges of her silk robe.

                “I was just… thinking. That’s all. Don’t worry about me.”

                “No, you weren’t. Don’t lie to me. We all know what day it is,” she said pulling the boy up off of the ground and attempting to dust the mud off of the top of his beanie, “Which is why Shiro didn’t chew your head off this morning about almost being late for the bus. He knows you woke up this morning… thinking… dreading. Regretting…” Her eyes locked with his and she could see the buried sorrow brewing beneath the darkness circling his pupil.

                “I don’t regret anything. I broke up with him for me. I was sacrificing too much of myself and he understood that which is part of what made him so amazing, Allura. We both understood. But just because I don’t regret it doesn’t mean I don’t miss it… miss us. I’d do anything to have him back on better terms, but you already know that so there’s no reason for me to declare my love while swimming in a pool of my own dread, ok?”

                “Keith, I didn’t mean to—”

                “I know,” the boy stared down at his feet that swallowed the water falling from the sky and threw his tossed bookbag back over his shoulder, “I’m just gonna head home, alright?”

                “Yeah… sure,” she let go of his hand and started to walk back towards her porch, its light drawing her in like a moth in a dreary cave, “Just give me a text when you get home. I’d like to know if my best friend is alive or not if that’s alright with you Mr. Grumpy Pants.” She stuck out her tongue playfully.

                When the boy reached his house, their porch light seemed to shine brighter than usual; a blaring torchlight paving a darkened path. He noticed something white and rectangular plastered against the dark wood of the front door and read the sticky note attached to it. It read:

_“Sorry for the insincerity of a sticky note, but I was late for work at the bar and didn’t know when you’d be home so I didn’t exactly have the opportunity for a hand delivery.  I’m not sure if you’re ready for all of this and I know it’ll be a big step if you decide to take it. But this is a note from Lance. I haven’t read it. I think you should be the first.”_

-Shiro

                Keith pulled a white envelope from its taped position against the door and held out the key attached to the lanyard swinging from his neck, letting himself through. The warmth of their home coated his skin and he felt like he was dancing around a freshly lit fire bursting aflame.

                After shutting the door and locking it behind him he turned all of his attention to the note in his hand.  𝒯𝑜, 𝒦𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽. His hands grazed the material and touched it against his forehead. Unsure of whether or not to take a leap of faith; unsure whether or not to fall into another person’s arms without the promise of being caught.

                He could still smell Lance’s cologne mixed in with the scent of rain from the hours outdoors as he slowly opened the packaging. Careful, as if a monster were planning to jump out from the crevices and strangle whatever self-worth he’d regained that stayed bottled within his soul. He took a breath and unfolded the crinkled paper, the sound echoing throughout the room almost as if urging him to go on, to push through his veil of fear. _Not just yet_ , he thought. 

                “The 12 days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

                 {Christmas Past} Day 1— A partridge in a pear tree.

                 It’s been a year. December 13th, a day that will live in infamy. At least in my opinion. It’s been a minute since we’ve been to the tree. What do you say we take a visit? Be kids again. We are about to graduate after all. The ball is in your court. I’ll be there @ about 3. An hour after school ends. Maybe I get to see you, maybe I don’t. But whether or not you see me is completely up to you. Do whatever feels right to you. A little birdie tells me you have great instincts.

Love, Lance”

                Keith whipped around to look at the digital clock on the microwave, turning so quick that pages flew out of his bookbag in almost slow motion, crinkling against the man-made breeze. _5:00._ He threw all of his belongings to the ground and pulled some stationary out from a nearby drawer. A bright yellow sticky note that read, _“I’ll be back before 10. No need to worry. I’ll explain when I get home”_ was plastered against the inside of the front door, and soon Keith was outside.

                He dashed through puddles and let the rain wash up against his face like the ocean crashing against a static shoreline. The hairs uncovered by his –also soaking— beanie were runny and unkempt, plastering themselves against his face as he pushed onward.

                And soon, he was there.  Staring into the glowing eyes of Lance McClain squished between the branches of their childhood play tree.

                “Hey!” he yelled up when Lance turned his head, his hair seemingly swaying in slow motion against the rain and cool breeze, “Why are you still here? I thought you’d be home by now!”

                “I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here if you thought I’d be gone?”

                The questions lingered in the air as the two stared at one another, face to face. 

                “I wanted to test my luck. You?” he asked.

                “I wanted to see if the universe would even let me stand a chance. Seems I made a safe bet.”

                 Keith didn’t answer. Only stared at the way Lance gleamed like a silver lining in the looming clouds above and asked, “Are you coming down any time soon or do I have to keep yelling?”

                 Lance promptly slid down a few branches, weaving his lanky legs through their cuts and curves and finally slid down to the wet base of the trunk of the tree. “Here I am. In the flesh.”

                 “So, you are. Did you have something specific to show me or did I just run through the freezing rain for no reason?”

                 Lance began to walk over. “I wanted to show you something and tell you a lot of things, but that’ll all come up sooner or later.” He rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt to the base of his elbow. “I had a year up until now to think about our relationship and why you left me the way you did. I realized that it wasn’t about me or you; that it was about us both and about how we didn’t know how to comfort one without the other’s suffering. I don’t know. It’s like I was blindfolded to how much I was putting on you. Anyway, I’m not here to win you back. I’m here to win you again, and again, and again, twelve times over. I’m here. A Lance 2.0 if you will.” The boy gripped tightly against Keith’s forearm, passionate yet soft; his skin almost slimy to the touch because of the continuous rain. “Look down. At my arms.”

                  Keith looked and surely Lance had scars beginning to fade all along his arms. No longer red and pulsing as if as fragile as a beating heart.

                  “Trust in me. Let me be there for you… if you’ll have me.” He handed Keith something between their hands. Another envelope. “You’re going to think about this tonight. I know that for a fact because moments like these aren’t ones that you let float away with the breeze, but I some way… I hope this begins to heal what we had and brings you to me another day.”

                  He began to walk off, his shoes smushing against the mud between the blades of grass beneath their feet and Keith stared down at the second envelope he’s received that day. Dampening its corners with his fingertips.

                   It’s a cold winter night as he stands there and wanes in a flurry of his own wanting. But, _not just yet_ , he thought. And he could hear the baby snowflakes whispering in his ears as he powered through the winds encasing their streets. _But maybe,_ he thought, _maybe soon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~STRAWBERRY~  
> {1,354 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	3. Day 2- Two Turtle Doves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith burst through the door, shaking as water drained from his coat all along the yellow tiles of the opening hallway. He dropped to his knees and Shiro came rushing to the front, almost tripping over his own feet. “Keith! Keith, is that you?” he yelled.  
> “It’s me and I’m pretty convinced I have hypothermia,” he said while laughing in between breaths. His hands vibrated with every movement. He lifted his head and for a second saw the figure of a large man with white hair and light skin… Shiro, he thought, before his vision became fuzzy and clouded in black, all noise was now silence besides the clambering sound of his body meeting the ground floor.

Shiro sat at the dining room table and stared longingly at the door, a look of skepticism veiling his eyes. He jumped at the sound of the trees outdoors smacking against the windows and his muscles tensed at the silence that followed. He had no idea where Keith was, wanting to keep his word and make sure he and Lance got the privacy they deserved while talking through the issues that they’d been brewing over for a year.

He could feel droplets dampening his skin as his brain ran ‘round and around wondering where the two could be and what they were doing and why Keith hadn’t told him beforehand. Maybe he didn’t trust him as much as he thought… Maybe—

Keith burst through the door, shaking as water drained from his coat all along the yellow tiles of the opening hallway. He dropped to his knees and Shiro came rushing to the front, almost tripping over his own feet. “Keith! Keith, is that you?” he yelled.

“It’s me and I’m pretty convinced I have hypothermia,” he said while laughing in between breaths. His hands vibrated with every movement. He lifted his head and for a second saw the figure of a large man with white hair and light skin… _Shiro_ , he thought, before his vision became fuzzy and clouded in black, all noise was now silence besides the clambering sound of his body meeting the ground floor.

The younger boy woke up to the crackling whisper of the fireplace in his ear. HIs blow-up mattress was pushed next to the warmth and he sank within the rubber material, blankets stacked like pancakes on top of his body. The friction from the soft fabric made his skin sizzle. Trying to sit up, he found that his muscles were tight and locked as they popped along with the sparks of the fire.

He looked to the side and saw a drowsy Shiro with his head bobbing while his eyelids struggled to stay open.  They might as well have been propped open by clothespins. His hand was imprinting his face as his cheek was swaddled by his palm. The gushing winds outdoors had calmed and there was no doubt that Shiro had fallen asleep to the melodious whisper of the chimes hanging in the breeze outdoors.

The subtle melody was already making his thoughts drift away like sirens pulling at his consciousness. He unwrapped his body from the blanket cocoon and the mattress squeaked until the pressure. And after walking over groggily, he tapped Shiro on the shoulder. “Hey, you look tired. Go ahead and steal my spot. It’s still all warm. I think it’d be a lot more comfortable than your hand.”

The man’s head bobbed in agreement as he took Keith’s hand that led him over to the spot on the air mattress by the fire. In seconds, he was swallowed by the blankets just as Keith had been and the boy tucked the loose edges beneath Shiro’s body as he snuggled between them and nuzzled the pillow like a puppy.

Water trickled from the faucet one room down and leaves circled in flurries outside the window as Keith tiptoed upstairs with his feet bare against the cold steps. When he reached his bedroom, he immediately turned on the space heater than rested directly in the middle then slipped on a pair of fuzzy Christmas socks he’d gotten at a Walmart on his way from school the night before. As they started to contain the body heat radiating from his feet, he sighed in satisfaction.

But, suddenly, he turned his head to the nightstand at the side of his bed and stopped in his tracks realizing the white rectangle resting on it. ‘Day two, I guess,’ he thought.

He held the envelope in his hands and stared at it with curiosity, wondering if what he was doing was the right thing. If he was even ready to open up the wound that’d been closed off for so long. He felt his skin crawl with goosebumps and thought to himself, ‘You haven’t even done anything yet. Can you calm down?’ 

The tension in his muscles relaxed and he cracked his knuckles, relieving the stiffness of his fingers.

It read:

“ The 12 days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

{Christmas Past} Day 2— Two Turtle Doves.

When we were six, your mom took us to a park. I’m sure you’ll remember which one I’m talking about because there are enough memories that come flooding back whenever I step foot on those woodchips to give me a headache for hours. We were six at that park when you lost your favorite stuffed hippo. He was chubby, purple, and was torn to shreds by a nearby dog who thought he was a chew toy and found him before we could. You were so sad, but that night my parents got into a fight. I told you about it the next day and in a split second you gave the hippo to me and said you didn’t want me to hurt anymore. It’s still sitting on my windowsill, the first thing I wake up to almost every morning. {Sometimes he falls off the windowsill… sorry, hippo} Anyway, remember this little story when you get your gift today because really, I just don’t want you to hurt anymore.

Love, Lance

P.S meet me @ the park if you’re up to it... 4:00 this time ”

Right then it’d been 11 am. It was 11 am when Keith decided to pick up his phone stuffed beneath his pillow and text Lance. ‘I’ll be there. Maybe even wearing a coat this time.’

He sat on the edge of his mattress and gripped the sides, bouncing solemnly with the squeak of his movement being the only noise in the air. He paced and cooked and slept and wrote, anything he could do to keep his mind at ease or at least distracted before 4 o’clock came around because lazy days had never been his forte.

His mind always raced with thoughts of what he _could_ be doing and what he _should_ be doing and what he _expected_ himself to be doing. Never even being able to rest on the couch without an inner voice screaming at him to do better and to _not be so selfish because some people didn’t have as much time on this earth as he did_ and how he was _wasting it sitting on a couch doing what? Resting? From what? What had he been doing that was just so exhausting_ —

Suddenly, an alarm he’d set for four popped up and was blaring on full volume. His hands were still a bit cold and shaky, so as he went to grab the source of all the noise, it slipped out of his hands and fell on the white carpet with a muffled crash.

He jerked his head in Shiro’s direction, making sure he hadn’t woken him. The man stirred for a moment but drifted back to sleep in seconds. Keith grabbed some stationary from the kitchen and wrote on a pink sticky note ‘I’ll be back by 8. Oh, and I’ll stop at the Chinese place for dinner. A thank you for saving my life last night and nursing me back to health. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to get hypothermia this time. I have gloves and a coat and everything!’

Sadly, when going to grab it, Keith realized his coat was still dripping wet from last night’s wear. So instead, he grabbed Shiro’s black coat whose sleeves ran past his fingertips and found the red gloves buried inside the pocket of the other. He didn’t see a hat nearby and not wanting to be late for Lance again he simply pulled his hair into a ponytail using the scrunchie on his wrist and slipped quietly out the door.

He hopped onto the seat of his jet-black bike parked in the driveway and his feet were soon peddling off towards Lenna Park. The breeze curved between the cracks in his lips that’d formed from so much exposure to the cold weather and his hands still shook against the handles which made him wobble out of a straight line every now and then.

And finally, there he was, “Oh no no no no! Here we go! Get ready! Weeee,” pushing a little girl on the yellow swing set that they’d played on as children. His hair swayed in the breeze as he laughed when she jumped out of the seat before going too high.

“I don’t wanna go _that_ high,” she said, panting as if she’d just almost lost her life.

“That’s fine too. Don’t worry. We can go at any pace you want.” And finally, he saw the dark-haired boy staring at him in awe from afar. A wispy silence fell upon them, neither speaking, fond looks filling the space between them. “Hold on. Just give me one second, okay? Maybe go play with your other friends for a bit?”

She stared at him, confused almost, and looked out at Keith in the distance who seemed to be looking at the taller boy before her. “Okay,” was all she got out.

Lance gave her a quick nod and ran off towards Keith, snatching him up in a big hug when finally reaching him. Keith, taken by surprise, laughed with a snort and squeezed back with his head nuzzled in Lance’s chest.

The little girl, who’d been watching, ran toward her friend and hugged her tight after planting a soft kiss on her cheek. The other girl laughed and hugged her friend back with a blush running along her cheeks and a smile plastered across her face.

“So, Lenna Park, huh?” Keith said as Lance walked them over to a cart a few feet away selling hot chocolate.

“Yeah. I thought it’d be a nice place to give you this,” he said pulling a purple hippo out of his royal blue bookbag like a magician revealing a conjured bunny.

Keith looked at it with sparkles in his eyes and remembered Lance’s letter that laid resting in his pocket. “I just don’t want you to hurt anymore,” he’d said. Keith slowed his steps and soon came to a full stop with Lance following. “What is this supposed to mean?” he asked at almost a whisper.

Lance looked up dreamily as if he was staring into a personal thought bubble, trying to get his words together because he’d always been better when it came to putting pen to paper. He could relate to Keith in that way. “I mean that I know how much you sacrificed for me. You were always there when I needed someone to lean on. It didn’t matter if… my parents were fighting and screaming to where you could hear it down the street or if they were at a whisper I could just barely hear through my walls. You were always there. It didn’t matter if you’d just had a breakdown 3 seconds ago yourself, you were always there. The time you should’ve been using to bandage yourself up and work on your own problems were used to bandage me up and fix all of my problems. And even when it seemed like you were done for the day, I always had another problem for you to come and fix. I treated you more like a therapist than a boyfriend and I’m so… so sorry for that. So, what I mean is that even though I may have my own issues and even though emotional is a part of relationships, it’s not the only part and it most definitely shouldn’t be one-sided. It means that… I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

Keith hurriedly brushed away the tears that were welling up in his eyes and swallowed against the frog in his throat. Lance’s face radiated warmth as he held it in his cold hands, each holding one of his freckled cheeks. The shorter boy stood on his toes and placed his soft lips against Lance’s forehead, smiling into the patch of skin. He brought himself down and said, “Can we get hot chocolate now?”

Lance nodded with a dorky smile.

Together, they sat in the middle of a patch of grass, zero space between their static bodies. You could feel the holiday season in the air in the way the fairy lights circling the electricity poles twinkled against their skin and silhouettes. People walked down the streets to reach their homes with decent heating wrapped in thick coats and glove-covered hands.

Keith with his head rested on Lance’s shoulder and Lance’s head rested in Keith’s hair said, “Okay, I love this… a lot, but I can’t feel my hands and I told Shiro I’d pick up dinner on my way home. And I also said I’d be home by 8.” He stood up and dusted the blades of grass off of his grey jeans and white sweater.

“No problem,” Lance answered in a blissful whisper, “But you can’t forget this.” He rummaged through the front pocket of the blue bookbag at his side to pull out yet another envelope. Keith stared at it, a spark of anticipation shooting from his side.

“Not that I’m not absolutely adoring this, but when does it all stop?”

“It’ll end on Christmas day, of course.”

“Of course,” Keith repeated with a laugh, taking the envelope gingerly in his hands. “Alright well… see you tomorrow then I guess.” _Maybe he has changed_ , he thought.

As he trotted off, Lance looked at him with a soft smile of appreciation. _Maybe I have changed_ , Lance thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~STRAWBERRY~  
> {2,280 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	4. Day 3- Three French Hens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro played at his attention being captured by the array of anime posters framed and plastered on the wall above and picking up multiple figurines, dusting them on his shirt like antique models. “I know… I know. Just came to check up on you that’s all. I mean I haven’t seen you all day,” he paused to look at Keith rocking on the edge of the bed with an eyebrow cocked, “So… who’s Matt?”  
> Keith immediately picked up his overstuffed pillow and groaned into the void. After sitting back up, he typed a few words up as the screen of his phone turned his face a ghostly pale. “He was someone I was dating. We weren’t even official. It’s not that big of a deal.”

A faint noise could be heard coming from Keith’s bedroom as Shiro walked up the stairs groggily from a full day of napping by the fire.

“I just… don’t think we’re gonna work out,” a silent pause, “What do you mean you’re confused? Well, okay _why_ are you confused?” Shiro pressed his ear faintly against the white door, listening to the murmurs on the inside. “Matt, it’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just… dating should be about how we both feel and we agreed that we’d take things slow and see where things went. I—”

Shiro came crashing through with an awkward cough, tripping over his own feet and rubbing the area he’d hit his head on the door. “I’m gonna have to call you back. Or, you know what? Just text me.”

The man attempted to lean nonchalantly against the dresser catching his unsteady breath with hands clamped against the furniture’s sides. But Keith still stared daggers through his throat. “The food’s downstairs.”

Shiro played at his attention being captured by the array of anime posters framed and plastered on the wall above and picking up multiple figurines, dusting them on his shirt like antique models. “I know… I know. Just came to check up on you that’s all. I mean I haven’t seen you all day,” he paused to look at Keith rocking on the edge of the bed with an eyebrow cocked, “So… who’s Matt?”

Keith immediately picked up his overstuffed pillow and groaned into the void. After sitting back up, he typed a few words up as the screen of his phone turned his face a ghostly pale. “He _was_ someone I was dating. We weren’t even official. It’s not that big of a deal.”  

The two made eye contact now rather than Shiro staring off into no man’s land to avoid awkward tension. “Do you think you should tell Lance?”

The sound of Keith’s fingertips tapping rhythmically against the bed frame echoed, cutting through the silence. “It’d be selfish not to, huh?”

“Keith, keeping something to yourself that you find to be personal isn’t selfish. Sometimes we have to look out for our own well-being, but that doesn’t mean to completely disregard Lance’s feelings. I’m just saying don’t forget to look at it from his point of view too and go from there,” he paused, seeing Keith’s head cradled in his hands, “Don’t forget that you deserve to be happy, too.” He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And the only person who knows what’s going to make you happy is you, so make sure it’s the right decision because I’d like to see your smile around the house again.”

The boy pulled out his phone and stared at its lit screen as Shiro looked at him with concern. He hit the backspace too many times to count and started to type again. When finished, he placed the phone in Shiro’s hands, “I’m starving,” and walked out of the room downstairs.

Shiro looked at what’d been written. It read: “I think I deserve more than this so, I’m going to go and find it. It’s been nice, but this isn’t what I want or what I need. I’m sure you’ll make someone else very happy one day, but that person can’t be me.”

“Keith,” Shiro called out to him as he began to walk down the steps.

“Yes?”

“What did it say before?”

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters… is what I do from now on. I’m going to go see Lance tomorrow afternoon, so don’t wait up.”

He looked out from beyond Keith’s room onto the staircase at a boy who looked as if a fog had just been lifted like a veil from his eyes. “Sure thing, buddy. Try to get some sleep though. You’ve been busy this weekend.”

“Got it.”

The next morning, Keith awoke to the crickets chirping at three. He sat with his nose up at the ceiling and felt a tugging at his thoughts; a mime roping him in with an imaginary string. Wind gushed through his window which he kept open despite it not being the safest means of getting fresh air into his room. _I have a knife. It’d be more of an inconvenience to anyone who came in than me,_ he’d always thought.

But suddenly, the breeze gushed below the envelope sitting on his nightstand and it flew from its spot, circling until it reached his lap and sat there in the eerie quiet.

He sat up and held the paper as his hands vibrated against the cold. Strands of his greasy hair skimmed his face and his eyesight sat unfocused as he ripped open the enclosed letter. He squinted and pulled his glasses out of their case sitting in the drawer of his night table. The cold metal sat around the skin surrounding his eyes and made him blink a few times. At last, he could finally see what was going on around him.

“ The 12 days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

{Christmas Past} Day 3— Three French Hens

I was doing some research the other day when I was planning all of this out and found out that French hens are supposed to represent faith, in a sense. And when I thought about it, faith sounded a lot like trust to me. And I thought about it even more (we’re talking 3 am thoughts here) and really, I don’t think that we had an established trust between us before. I relied on you sure, but that’s not trust… at least I don’t think so. Anyway, let’s build ourselves some trust, shall we? This one’s gonna take place in your very own backyard if you don’t mind. We’re gonna need the treehouse for this one. 4:00 again, okay?                                                           

Love, Lance “

He placed the letter back in its resting place using his glasses as a paperweight. Standing up with his feet sinking within the fibers of the black carpet, he closed the window letting in a breeze that caused goosebumps to rampage his skin. He slumped back into his bed with a content sigh, drifting off to sleep after 2 hours of silent thoughts and silent wanting.

After school that very day, Keith sat in the middle of his backyard, blocked from the already cloud-covered sun and swallowed by his house’s shadow. Lying flat on his back with his hands propping up his head, his eyes closed as he visualized the screeching hawks that flew overhead, stalking him, thinking they could catch him as prey. _They wish_ , he thought. The squirrels scurried along the leaf-covered ground and the sound of their feet crinkled with every movement. No bugs dared to buzz in this cold weather that he stayed shielded from in his layered coat, gloves, and beanie.

Suddenly, a squirrel trampled over his chest and a high-pitched scream escaped his lungs. He looked around, knowing that no one was around yet checking just to make sure, and of course, this was the one time he’d been wrong.

“Your scream is ridiculous,” a deep yet soft voice said from behind him and he cringed.

“Oh, wow. Thanks, Allura. I hadn’t noticed.” He scrambled up and looked behind towards her swaying on his porch swing. “Wait… No. No, no, no, no. You can’t be here right now.”

“Aww. Why? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, and you’ve had this secret little smirk on your face all through class today,” she flipped herself upside down on the swing with her feet tapping the air, blood undoubtedly rushing to her head, “I feel like there’s tea you’re not spilling. Come on, I feel left out—”

“Okay, okay, okay chill,” Keith said waving his hands in frustration, “I’ll text you all the details later. You know what? We can even call if you want, but long story short, I want to get back together with Lance and he’s been taking me on these super cute and meaningful dates and I’m having a really good time. And one of them is over here, in this backyard. So, you’ve really gotta go, A. Please, just at least go inside and hang with Shiro.”

The girl was now looking at him wide-eyed and curious but was obviously containing herself. “Fine. But you are telling me _everything_ later. Got it?”

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes.” The girl then looked satisfied, flipping herself right-side up and almost hitting her head on the wooden stairs and stepping on her own hair that gleamed against the porch’s black paint.

After hearing the backdoor's hinges click shut, Keith heaved a sigh of relief.

“Someone’s really itching for some alone time, huh?”

“Oh, come on,” Keith groaned now looking at the boy sitting atop the locked door of his backyard fence. “You really couldn’t’ve just waited for me to unlock the gate?”

“You sounded a little preoccupied so I figured I could hop it myself,” he said landing with a thump when his leg twisted awkwardly on his downfall from the top, “Gah… and well um, I did.” Keith giggled into his hand quietly at Lance’s attempt to show off.

“What did you here?”

“Bits and pieces, I guess. Why?”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. So, why is this happening in my backyard, again?”

“Well,” he gestured up towards the large tree looming over them, “This is where the treehouse is, isn’t it?” The two looked up at the large plant spurting from the land before them. “After you,” Lance said with one hand gripping the ladder positioned against the side. “I know you’re not good with heights, but just trust me, okay? That’s what today’s all about,” he said with a soft smile.

Keith gripped the handles and went step by step, feeling his stomach lurch after every time it creaked under his weight. “I don’t like this,” he said, yet he kept moving, foot by foot, step by step.

When he finally reached the top, he felt as if the winds were going to yank him out of the treehouse’s opening. He stood quaking as if he were on a mountaintop, looking over yonder at his impending doom. “Hey!” His vision focused as he heard Lance call out to him. “Just focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice!” Keith took deep breathes, feeling as if he was latching back onto his soul that’d left his body seconds before. “Okay, now I need you to turn around, back facing towards me.” Keith did so slowly and gripped the branches of the house’s perimeter until his knuckles were white. “Okay… now since your eyes are closed, pretty tight might I add, the next step is for you to fall back—”

“Fall back!” Keith asked, frantically yelling. “What the hell are you on about!”

“Look, you really think I’d let you get hurt? Do you really think that?”

Keith sat there in silence and contemplated. “I mean… I was hurt before. Why do you think we broke up?”

Lance would be lying if he were to say that the comment didn’t hurt him a bit. Lying if he were to say it didn’t sting him in a place that few could reach. But he understood.

“Well, let me fix it!” He yelled. “Let me try! If we’re going to do this that’s not what you should think of me—”

And that’s when he did it. Arms crossed and body stiff as a board, he fell through the sky in what seemed like slow motion.

Lance gasped with mere seconds to react, looking at Keith as those seconds it took him to fall felt like minutes, maybe hours. With his arms outstretched, he latched onto the smaller boy’s body and gripped the outer edges of his skull and waist. His knees buckled, but his arms didn’t waver as Keith’s body hovered above the ground in his arms; cradled like a baby. “I told you.”

Keith looked at him with wide eyes and sweat trickling down his face despite the cold breeze that blew his hair from his face. “I guess you did, huh?”

Lance set him down gracefully like a princess coming down from horseback. He held out yet another envelope, “Until next time then.” And in seconds he was back over the fence with a smirk gracing his lips.

Keith collapsed to the ground, his hand gripping his heart, feeling as if it were going to burn a hole through his chest by the friction the beats were creating. _He really told me,_ he thought through breathy laughs.

Shiro came rushing out and found Keith laughing hysterically on the ground. “Keith! What the hell are you doing? Are you alright?”

He kept laughing, hitching breaths between random giggles and clutching at his side. Finally gaining a little composure, wiping the tears of joy from his eyes he said, “Never better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~STRAWBERRY~  
> {2,157 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	5. Day 5- Four Calling Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you hear that!” Keith exclaimed as soon as he and Lance had gotten into the car. “It was amazing! I’ve never heard myself play with such… such… what’s the word?”  
> “Emotion?” Lance suggested.  
> “Yes! That!” Keith celebrated in his seat right then and there. Punching the air with his fists, the leather seats crinkling beneath him.

“Did you grab your violin?” Shiro yelled from the bathroom upstairs, foaming at the mouth with toothpaste falling from his lips and into the sink.

“Nope, but I’ve got it now. Thanks!”

Keith had never been the most organized person when it came to getting ready for things in the morning. Was there an early wedding to go to? Well, he would forget his tie. Did he have a recital at 9 am? Well, he would definitely forget something essential like his bow that Shiro would have to race back home for; ignoring traffic lights and skipping even the thought of buckling up. The fact remained even when it came to getting ready in the morning for something as simple as school. When getting his stuff together, he used to rely on only memory, but that soon proved counterproductive when Shiro received multiple emails about Keith’s missing and late assignments and the calls he’d get from Keith about staying at Allura’s for the afternoon because he’d forgotten his keys.

This morning, as Keith dashed out of the door, was no different.

His name was called from the entrance of the front door and Shiro yelled, “Forgot your keys, buddy!”

“I won’t need ‘em. Oh! And Lance is picking me up from my violin class today. Is that fine?”

The man looked at him with concern, wondering if he should be letting Keith hang out with him after the treehouse fiasco, which he liked to call it, but going against his better judgment he nodded with a soft smile and a crinkle against the outer edges of his eyes. “Just… be careful, okay?”

Keith was already running off, knowing he’d most likely miss the bus if he kept stopping for chit chat but he stopped in his tracks and said, “Honestly… I don’t think I could feel safer anywhere else.”

❅

Lance sat. He sat and waited, staring harshly at the outside of the window. At the people passing by, the buses rolling down the street, and the tree in front of the building that’d once had no leaves, beginning to grow them back in spurts of green. The yellow of the morning light stung his eyes but he kept them open, hoping to catch a glimpse at Keith running down the concrete street and maybe even wave a friendly hello.

But sadly, it seemed he’d be late today, overtaken by his own disorganization in the morning no doubt.

Suddenly, the boy felt a tap on his shoulder and looked over to see it was Mila. _Who else would it be_ , he thought.

“Hey kid,” she said, seeming in a more chipper mood than usual; voice high and full of life. She handed him his lemonade before his order even had a chance to leave his mouth.

“Oh wow. So, I guess we’re past order status, huh?” He laughed to himself. _Only took a year_ , he thought.

“I mean, yeah. I thought it’d be more efficient anyway.”

“Efficient? Okay, what’s gotten into you? You barely have any more life than I do in the morning and now you’re talking efficiency at a time like 7 am. Your manager must’ve brainwashed you or something, where is he?” Lance looked over the booth playfully.

“Well, stop your searching ‘cause you’re lookin’ at her,” she said, tapping her tag with _manager_ now written beneath her name.

Lance stopped and looked at her, mouth gaping, eyes wide with excitement. “Oh crap! Look at you! Congrats, Mila!”

She twirled and curtsied like a princess turned queen. “I know! It was so wild. I woke up and when I looked at my phone, my manager had texted me out of the blue talkin’ about how he was gonna quit and was wondering if I’d take it and of course, I was like ‘Hell, yeah!’ and boom. Now I’m the manager.” She shrugged like it was no big deal but her shaking body and goofy smile said otherwise.

“Well, however it happened, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, “Any progress on getting your white knight out there?” She pointed towards the boy standing at the bus stop, keeled over catching his breath.

“I… think we’re making progress. He’s a hard code to crack, but I know I can figure it out.”

“That’s the spirit! I say go out there and just say hey, you know?” Lance gave her a look of sheer terror. “Oh, come on! Look,” she waved at a mother walking a stroller down the sidewalk under the fairy lights hung outside, “See? She waved back with a smile. Don’t you wanna see pretty boy over there smile at you before he leaves?”

Lance took a moment to imagine the small boy’s smile. The way his lips thinned and curved on only one side as if containing himself, not wanting to express his happiness too much; afraid to lose it to the breeze like an untethered balloon. “Yeah.. yeah I would. Okay,” he took a deep breath that fogged up the glass of the window, “I’ll do it. Thanks and congrats again, Mila!”

He was already out the door when she said, “No problem, you go kid!”

The bell at the top of the door jingled wildly as Lance flung himself out the door, just in time, right before Keith’s foot landed on the bus’ steps.

“Hey, Keith!” The boy’s dark hair and blue scarf blew in the wind as he turned his head to Lance, his lips curving and his cheeks reddening. He waved and scrambled onto the bus, but Lance saw how the smirk grew and grew as he’d walked up the steps, tripping on the last one.

Lance pulled out his phone and took off a glove so he’d be able to touch the screen.

_Your smile is cute <3 After violin practice right? _

_thanks.. haha yep there’s no way i can be late this time, right?_

_Yeah, I pretty much planned it like that lol_

❅

“I think I want to work on the Rondo Capriccioso piece today, is that alright?” Keith asked as he pulled out his violin from its dark fabric casing.

“Keith, honey, you can do whatever you’d like. I’m just glad you’re finding time to play at all considering it’s finals week and all. My granddaughter, Morry, she’s been going on and on about them for the past few weeks,” his instructor said as he settled his bow lightly against the strings, “She’s just so passionate about her schoolwork, it drives her a little crazy sometimes.”

Keith chuckled, “I like your stories Mrs. Dorona. I don’t tell you very often, but they’re great. And about your granddaughter, you should tell her that there’s more to life than school. I mean, look at me, I play the violin, I watch TV whenever I can, I write poetry, and a lot of people call me emo for it, but honestly I just like to do the things I enjoy so that I’m not going insane like… What did you say her name was?” he asked.

“Morry.” She smiled and her skin crinkled like the edges of a freshly baked pie. “You tell good stories yourself. You just have such an old soul and it makes me feel like I’m talking to an old friend.”

“Well,” he balanced the violin on his shoulder and positioned his chin, straightening his posture in the process, “It would explain why I’m so good with this new song. Maybe I was Camille Saint-Saëns himself in another life.” He laughed.

He pressed softly on the strings at first, as not to snap them. He’d always been afraid of doing that, letting his emotions flow too wildly within his bow to where the fragile wisps would snap under the pressure.

But today, the feelings resting within his heart, ready to spill out like a waterfall, made his fingers loose and his muscles less tense. They poured like hot cocoa into a mug, sweet and calming, his breath melting into the notes. The chords spilling from him like they never have before. He could feel their tones rise and fall in his very lungs and the music seemed to simply drain from his fingertips.

He only stopped when his breath hitched and a few tears let loose from his eyes. Looking up, he saw that Mrs. Dorona had been crying as well; a full-on symphony of tears trickling against her dark skin. “Wow,” she laughed while wiping away a few tears, “Keith.. I don’t even have words... I mean.. where did that _come from_?”

They sat in the sudden silence of the room. “Woah…” was all he could get out. He’s stunned himself, barely processing everything just done; the sounds he’d created.

“Woah indeed. I mean… _Wow_ , Keith. You must’ve been practicing, or something… _someone_ must’ve pulled that out from you. You look as surprised as me. This is what I’ve been trying to get out of you all year. You’re always so technically proficient that you forget the _emotion,_ but today it’s like you just threw all of that right out the window. The perfect blend of technicality and feeling and the balance of pain and pleasure that I think was represented in this piece. Truly, truly remarkable,” she said, praise after praise, silent tears still flowing.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Dorona. I think with this, I could really have a chance at the Uwat Music competition this year,” he said with a slight sparkle in his eye.

“Darling,” she grabbed his hands reassuringly, “I believe you could win _any_ music competition you put your mind to. _Especially,_ with a piece like that.”

Keith smiled and gasped when he heard a soft knock against the door. “Keith,” someone said at almost a whisper, “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt. The music just stopped and I was wondering if you were ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Sorry to keep you later than usual,” his instructor said, “Just go home and practice still, but amazing job today Keith. I couldn’t be happier or more confident in you for your upcoming competition,” she continued as he quickly packed up both his bow and violin in their case.

“Thanks a lot,” he said, scurrying out the door and grabbing Lance with a full goofy smile draped against his face, “I won’t let you down!”

❅

“Did you hear that!” Keith exclaimed as soon as he and Lance had gotten into the car. “It was amazing! I’ve never heard myself play with such… such… what’s the word?”

“Emotion?” Lance suggested.

“Yes! That!” Keith celebrated in his seat right then and there. Punching the air with his fists, the leather seats crinkling beneath him.  

Lance stared at him in awe, wide-eyed and mouth slightly gaping. “You really were amazing. I hope it’s alright, but I had my ear pressed against the door and seriously, I have never heard you play so fluidly and with such… compassion. Your playing usually gives me goosebumps, but today I was about to cry in there.” He laughed quietly to himself and revved up the car. “Now, off to our date—,” he stopped abruptly, “It’s okay if I call it that, right?”

“That’s perfect…” Keith said.

Lance smiled and pushed a button that blew cold air in their faces. They both cringed at the burst of frigid air against the already cold atmosphere. “Don’t worry, it’ll heat up.”

He let one hand off of the steering wheel when they finally reached the main road and they sat in silence. But soon, Keith realized how Lance’s hand sat eerily between them… _Just go for it_ , he thought, heart grappling at his chest, air hitched and split between breaths.

And that’s when he did it. At the moment he was able to wrangle his thoughts and quiet their defiance, he did it. He hovered his fingers on top, so close you could feel the energy vibrating in the space between, then rested them gingerly. The two looked off to the side, each “distracted” by the urban centers zooming by; their blushed reflections faded against the frosted windows.

They continued to ride with nothing but the sound of the car’s engine and motors rumbling below them and the warm now air blowing from the vents. The plastic windshield wipers rubbed rhythmically against the glass up front, showcasing the other cars in front of them and the traffic lights and the street signs. Driving through the subtle signs of domestic, suburban life.

The radio was filled with static and a few phrases popped in now and then, barely audible. As they rode into a parking lot, the static-filled voice said, “Tonight's folks… Possibility of… Sn-... Gr-... your coats—“

That’s when his voice finally cut out as Lance shut the car down and gestured out toward where they were. “Parthenon trail?” Keith asked with an eyebrow cocked as he stared out onto the dirt road while he put on his hat and a hood to cover that.

“Yep. You read my letter, right?”

 _Crap_ , Keith thought, _I completely forgot_. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to. This morning I was rushing and I’ve been reading them right when I wake up and it totally slipped my mind this morning… my bad. Did I mess up our date?”

Lance’s heart twinged at Keith calling their outing together a ‘date’ just as he had minutes before. “No, of course not. Thanks for even setting away time to read them in the morning. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” Keith said detangling their hands so that he could put on his left glove, “Do you remember what it said?”

Lance looked at him with a pleading look as if begging him not to have to speak his emotions out loud.

“Look, it doesn’t have to be perfect, all right? All I care about is you even trying… even putting in the effort to care for me the way you have the past few days. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you. Nothing more… nothing less,” Keith said at a whisper.

“How about I tell you while we’re walking, sound good?”

The car doors unlocked with a click and soon they were on the trial, the ground slightly sticky from the past days of unyielding rain. Today was not that, though. It was satisfyingly quiet. The kind of day where the sounds around are only your footsteps and the breath of the person next to you and the clashing of leaves as they twirl while dancing in the breeze.

“Okay, so you remember this trail clearly. Why?”

“I mean, we would come down here almost every weekend and ride our bikes if we weren’t already at your house or mine… or up in that tree house in the backyard.”

“Yes, well I definitely remember that. But, I also remember that when we were little, I’d always tell you this path led right back to my house if we took a ‘secret passage’.” Keith looked down at the path with widened eyes as memories rushed back in a flood. “You’d never believe me, and rightfully so, I guess. But you know what? Where did we end up every time?” Keith chuckled and his teeth showed through the parting in his lips. “That’s right, my house. I just must’ve had a pretty good sense of direction back then, who knows. That or we would’ve been a bear’s lunch,” Lance held out his hands, fingers curved liked claws, “Rawr!” That threw Keith into yet another fit of the purest laughter Lance had heard in a while.

The two stopped right outside the perimeter of an expanse of trees, bushes, and patches of dead grass which looked almost like a baby forest; at least without the lush evergreens and colorful berries to brighten the scene. “So, yesterday, as much as it terrified you, was about trying to get you to believe in me. And yeah… it was extravagant, but hey! You did it!” He laughed nervously when Keith glared at him, still horrified. “Anyway! This one is about trust. I know it takes a lot to build trust… I know that more than others… We both do. With my parents arguing 24/7 about god knows what, clearly shows that they never made the effort to build that trust between each other. At least, they never put in the effort.” Keith looked at him, expecting him to tear up because that’d always been how Lance’s breakdowns started. How he’d know that it was time to comfort him…. night after night… ignoring his own demons, shoving them in the closet to be dealt with another time. He held out his arms, his instincts to nurture fully thrust and ready to go. Lance took it. “But you know what?” he asked, his voice a murmur muffled by the crook of Keith’s neck. “It doesn’t even make me sad anymore. I want to learn from it, and start with you,” he unlocked himself from Keith’s embrace and took a few steps forward into the trees, “You comin’ or what?”

Keith looked at the taller boy, utterly dumbfounded and then smiled. “If I trip or hurt my hands, I’m blaming it on you,” he said then laughed.

And after leaves crunched beneath their feet and stems smacked into their faces and logs were hopped over, they made it out, the sun lighting their faces from the right. “What did I tell you? Lance The Navigator, they should call me!”

They both looked at each other and giggled hysterically. “Definitely. So, until next time?”

“Hey! That’s my line! Plus,” he rummaged through his coat pocket, “You almost forgot your next letter.”

“Right, how could I forget… again,” Keith said.

They two walked down their street in opposite directions, their houses barely a block from one other.

“Oh Keith, by the way,” Lance said, “This is the end of Christmas Past.”

“Christmas Past?”

“I set it up so that the first 4 days that you got the letters were Christmas Past. We’d talk about our childhood, reminisce on what’s already happened, you know? I thought it’d be nice to go back and change the things that should be changed. Like, for example, I never paid attention to how much you cared about playing violin. You did it so much and were so passionate about it but I was too caught up in myself, really to even pay you any mind. I thought about that a lot this year,” he paused, “But tomorrow we start Christmas Present. It’s how I want us to be and how I want you to feel in the moment, in the now. How I want you to feel if we do, you know, decide to get back together. If you decide if you’re willing to give me another chance.”

There was a silent pondering between the both of them.

“I think you’d be happy with my answer.” And with that, Keith ran towards his home with an envelope in hand. He realized how late it was getting, a darkness casting over the sky, making the stars twinkle brighter than they’d ever seemed before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~STRAWBERRY~  
> {3,195 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	6. Day 5- Five Golden Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy looked at the clock that glowed on his dashboard that read 7:15 and listened to the yelling that seemed to grow louder and louder by the second. He imagined his little sister covering her ears each and every time the shock of their voices bounced against their high ceilings and cringed. “Okay, baby girl. I am so sorry,” he swerved, just barely missing a car trying to merge into his lane without any turning signals because both of their lights seemed to be busted, “I really can’t be on the phone right now, but just go upstairs and stay in your room and when I get home, I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay? Can you do me a favor though and put Bean in her crib for me and make sure you put daddy’s phone exactly where you found it?”

As Lance walked back through the forest they’d come from, he regretted wearing nothing to cover his long arms besides his favorite, but thin, blue jacket. A jacket that did worse of a job keeping his body warm than the baby jackets he’d always try to stuff himself into; so stylish, he’d hoped that they’d still fit.  His hands were so busy trying to desperately rub some heated friction into his skin that they weren’t able to block the looming branches from hitting him square in the nose.  
But, soon, he reached the white car in the parking lot that called out to him and drew him in with the promise of heat to make his goosebumps disappear from his flesh. After getting in, he took out his phone and clicked on a contact that hadn’t been talked to in a while.

After a few seconds he heard, “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to call after, what has it been? A year?

“Wow, I didn’t think you of all people would be so hurt.”

“I’m sorry… You do realize who this is right? It’s Allura. The friend who lives barely a block from you who hasn’t gotten a call, may I remind you again, in a year!”  
“Okay, okay, yeah. I’m sorry. I was trying to figure some things out, alright?”

“Well, clearly you figured something out because I can see Keith walking down our street with a blush on his face coming in a lot later than usual. Wanna tell me what that’s all about or are we only on acquaintance level now?”

“Oh my gosh. Can you chill? We’re definitely not just acquaintances and you know that. You’ve gotten me through some of my darkest times and I’m sorry we— I, haven’t kept in contact. Okay?”

“Fine. Apology accepted,” she hung upside down from the edge of her bed with her hair dangling over the side, the tangles sparkling against the light of her chandelier, “But only because I want the tea, now spill. What’s up?”

He put his keys into the ignition and started explaining the situation, his 12 days of Christmas idea, and all of the things he and Keith had tried to fix and had confessed. “I just didn’t want us to sink without him knowing that I wanted to make things better, you know—” He felt a vibration against his ear and looked to see who was interrupting his other call.

It was his father. “Oh my god, I have to go Allura. But I’ll text you, okay?” Before she could even answer, he transferred the call over to his dad and was immediately hit with yelling in the background and a kid’s voice in his ear. “Ronna? Is that you? What’s going on?”

“Mommy and… I think daddy is mad at mommy about… Well, I don’t know.  I don’t know, but it’s really… they’re getting really loud and… can you just get here, please? You’re out later than you said you would be.”

The boy looked at the clock that glowed on his dashboard that read _7:15_ and listened to the yelling that seemed to grow louder and louder by the second. He imagined his little sister covering her ears each and every time the shock of their voices bounced against their high ceilings and cringed. “Okay, baby girl. I am so sorry,” he swerved, just barely missing a car trying to merge into his lane without any turning signals because both of their lights seemed to be busted, “I really can’t be on the phone right now, but just go upstairs and stay in your room and when I get home, I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay? Can you do me a favor though and put Bean in her crib for me and make sure you put daddy’s phone exactly where you found it?”

“Okay… Yes, yes I will.”

The call ended and Lance continued driving, a bit faster than the speed limit intended, but unaware because he had important places to be, important people to protect and comfort. _Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it_ , he thought; his inner panic slightly clouding his mind and his focus on the road.  
Unfortunately, it’d started raining and the continuous sliding of the windshield wipers was driving Lance insane, but it drew his attention to something monotonous. Keeping his attention on what lay before him. _Damn it_ , he thought.

❅

The next morning, he woke up with a pain in his neck, a stinging on his bicep and a young girl resting peacefully in his arms. She snored against his chest, balled up like a caterpillar in a cocoon, shielded from all attacks both verbal and physical.

He sat up groggily and lifted her body, which was heavier than expected for an 8-year-old girl. He held her delicately as if she were a porcelain doll, but dropped her on the pillows with a _floof_ when a sudden, blaring noise came from his phone. He reached over to grab it and stop the sound before—

“La… Lance? Is that the alarm? Is it time to wake up?” Ronna asked as she sat up and rolled off of the bed.

“Yeah, go ahead and start to get ready. I’m already gonna be late today though because I have a few… bruises to cover up,” Ronna looked at him with hate in her eyes, knowing that it was their father that’d done the damage, “But, if you want, I can take you to school and we can stop at the bakery to get some doughnuts. Sound good?” A small smile grew on her face when morning doughnuts were brought up and Lance couldn’t help but smile back. _It’s a start_ , he thought, _A start to make the memories fade… even just a little_.

The young girl looked at the outfit her brother had put out for her on his dresser and tried it on. It was a red mock-neck top, grey leggings, a jean skirts, and shoes that looked like they belonged to a church-girl. She posed in his full-length mirror and made the sound of a satisfied, “Hmph,” in approval. “You pick out good outfits. I want to… I think I’m gonna go put on my converse, though. The shoes are cute… Yeah, they’re cute, but I look like… like I’m going to a wedding or something. And my converse would look good with this shirt.”

Lance looked at her as he picked out an outfit of his own, on his way to the bathroom in the hallway so that she could have the room to herself despite it technically being his. “Yeah, whatever you’re comfortable in. We’re rollin’ out in 5.”

❅

The two were out the door right as the baby girl who’d been sound asleep started screaming from her crib, a distant noise to them as Lance locked the front door. They walked over to the white Sedan parked in the driveway and unlocked it with a loud horn beep in return.

Ronna opened the door to the passenger’s side and sat up front like she always did when Lance and she went on their little adventures in the morning that no one knew about besides them. She buckled up and the material of her coat was loud against the seat as she struggled to use her little arms to pull the seatbelt over her body.

But when she eventually got it, they hit the road. Despite it being 40 degrees outdoors, Lance cracked the windows and let a subtle breeze make its way into the car and Ronna’s high, curly pigtails blew from side to side. She hugged her blue bookbag closer to her chest. The same bookbag that Lance had bought her a year before after she’d lost the other one she’d had and gotten yelled at for doing so.

She pulled out a few pages of homework that she hadn’t finished the night before and flattened them against her blue clipboard, that Lance had also had to replace.  
“Weren’t able to finish your homework last night?” He asked softly, his voice a knife cutting through the silence of the car. No music played in the stereo and the only sounds were the cars zipping past them down the street, getting to where they needed to go. A few birds chirped as the world began to wake up and the sun started to glint against the front window just as they pulled into the parking lot of the Ballet Bakery.

“No… I wanted to… I mean I was working on it… I did most of…” she paused as if to contemplate her thoughts and try to create some kind of coherent sentence, “I just… couldn’t focus. That’s all.”

Lance looked at her with sympathy and Ronna saw the look of pity in his eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll finish it while you go in and get the doughnuts. I’ll have… I want chocolate, like always.”

Lance knew his sister didn’t like to use their family situation as an excuse for anything. She thought it made her weak somehow like she was getting special treatment for something completely out of her control. She hated it, and all Lance could do was try to combat that hate-filled feeling with mornings like this filled with nothing but sunshine and a calm breeze to ease the thoughts that circled in whirlwinds. The memory of screaming back and forth—arguments with no end in sight… throats gone dry from constant screaming and bruises covered by your mother’s makeup in the morning.  
He walked into the Bakery and his favorite smell, the scent of fresh-baked bread, filled his lungs. The tiles looked freshly mopped, almost to where he could see a distorted version of his own reflection.

“Hi, how may I help… you… Lance?” A girl with long, silver-dyed hair styled in a ponytail with a visor wrapped around her forehead greeted him with her eyebrows raised. “Didn’t think I’d see you here so early.”

“Allura?”

“The one and only.” She gave him a warm smile which quickly faded away when her eyes raked down his arm to see a foundation that in no way matched his skin tone, oddly placed and strikingly obvious.

“What is it?” Lance asked when the girl’s face went sour and almost bitter just as his sister’s had when he’d mentioned his bruises an hour before.  
“Look, I know it’s none of my business… and I know you prefer to keep your family stuff on the low, but I suggest you go to CVS and pick up a better foundation, okay,” she gestured towards his uncovered bicep, “People are going to ask questions that you probably aren’t ready to answer.” He looked at her with a distant stare, trying to avoid her gaze. “I thought this was getting better. Mila said she hasn’t seen any bruises on you for months…” she whispered.  

“Wait, wait, wait. How do you know Mila?”

Allura smirked. “We’re friends at school. She’s only 19, you know? That’s only a year older than us and anyway, before she graduated, we were dating. We ended on good terms, I guess. We’re still friends, but she noticed you when you first started coming into the café she worked at from how I’d described you before.”

“So, you were talking about me, huh?” He asked with a cocky grin.

“Yeah. I talk about my friends all the time,” she said deadpan, “Even when they decide to drop dead for a year and go MIA.” She raised an eyebrow as if to sarcastically say, what now? “Anyway. After that, I asked her to just keep an eye on you.”

“Okay, makes sense… Oh! Can I get two chocolate doughnuts please, n—”

“No frosting? Yeah, I know. The old manager left me a list of all the orders for his regulars.”

She handed him a small paper bag that tingled against his fingertips and he asked, “Sorry, can I get a small hot chocolate too, no caffeine?”

As she dispensed the warm, brown liquid into the small cup, she said to another entering customer, “Hi! Welcome to the Ballet Bakery. I’ll be right with you.” Then, she turned to Lance and gave him a sympathetic look. “I know you think you’re burdening people by talking about this, but at least tell Keith or I swear… I will.”

He shot her a glance, “I could do without the threats,” and yanked his card from her hand after paying for his sister’s hot chocolate. “I was going to tell him, anyway.”

❅

He walked back out to his car, annoyed but understanding. She just wants to help, he thought, But, threatening me definitely doesn’t help shit. After opening the driver’s side door, barely avoiding dropping everything in his hands, he laid Ronna’s doughnut by her thigh; careful not to get anything on her papers. “Wait… where are all the papers you had out?”

“I finished all of them,” she said, confused at his surprised reaction.

“But… how? I mean, I’m a senior and that looked like a ton of work even to me.”

“Well… I mean… You are pretty lazy, anyways. But I don’t know,” she shrugged, “Sometimes I’m able to… pay attention… Sometimes I can focus. Sometimes I can’t.” They left it at that as they drove onward towards her elementary school, eating their winter doughnuts as a breeze gust through cracks in the window and as the world yawned and stretched; waking up to smell the roses.

When Lance got to school after dropping off Ronna, he parked haphazardly leaving tire marks against the pavement. He lugged his gym clothes in a duffel bag against his chest and dashed through the front doors of his high school.

As a senior, he didn’t have many classes throughout the day. He’d been through many advanced classes so he’d be able to take a load off his senior year, and all his hard work paid off just like he thought it would. The only classes he had were PE, Physics and American Literature then he could go home and do what he pleased.  
Standing in the front lobby, he waited impatiently with his foot tapping against the plastic tiles for the woman printing his tardy-slip. He smiled which eventually morphed into a grimace; the aftermath of slight frustration still targeted at Allura threatening to expose him.

His slip finally printed after he’d typed his student number into a pad that’d keep track in his record and it was barely milliseconds before he dashed down the steps to the locker room downstairs.

And there he was. Keith Kogane… in the flesh, sweating profusely and gasping for breath, Lance guessed, after having finished the dreaded pacer test. The infamous assessment that recorded how many laps, running from one side of the gym to the other, one could do without passing out or throwing up or quitting altogether.  
Keith gave him a soft smile and for a second, Lance didn’t know what to do with himself. But, soon realizing he was on the brink of being late for his own end-of-semester assessment, he smiled back and quickly said, “I really have to tell you something, but it’s gotta be fast ‘cause I don’t wanna be late for my test and don’t wanna give you enough time to be mad at the person who did it.” Keith started to open his mouth with a protest but was cut off before he even began. “Just listen,” he took off his coat and showed the patch of distinct foundation on his bicep, “This happened last night. It’s not as bad as it could’ve been and yeah it was my dad.”  
“Okay, okay. 1. Are you okay? 2. Is Ronna okay? and 3. Why did you get punched?”

“I’m fine, just a little rattled, nothing I can’t handle. Yes, she’s fine. She’s pissed at my dad though, you can see it all over her face. But yeah, she’s okay. That idiot knows better than to lay a hand on her. And it’s because when he and my mom were yelling, I told them to shut up because Ronna was trying to sleep and they were gonna wake up Bean. So, my dad, being the gentleman he is, went to punch me in the face for trying to ‘order him around’, but I dodged his drunken shot and he hit my arm.”

Keith's face began to burn, cheeks flushing with utter hatred and a fire blazing in his dark, smoldering eyes. But he took a deep breath, assessing the situation from all angles. He whispered with a silent rage tucked away beneath his tongue, “But… you’re okay?”

Lance pulled the sweaty boy into a hug, hands around his waist, a smile pulling at both their lips. “I’m am absolutely okay. Oh! Also,” he presented a small, black ring box.

“Woah—”

“Don’t get all defensive yet hotshot. This ring’s for me. You read my letter, right?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot you explained all of this.”

The letter had read:

“ The 12 days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

{Christmas Present} Day 5— Five Golden Rings

Now, I definitely won’t be giving you five golden rings. But today’s gift is not only for you but for the both of us. This thing that we might get into… this relationship. It needs a promise from both of us, but not to each other. We need to make a promise to ourselves that we’ll try to be our best selves, not only for each other’s well-being for our own. We shouldn’t be two broken people trying to make one whole person with double the problems. We should be two whole people coming together to harmonize with one another so that we’re thriving. Not one sinking over the other’s misery. So, to make this happen, I bought myself a promise ring {I got it from a retail store, don’t worry} I promise to myself to be enough for you and to be worthy of you. I promise myself to be the best I can be because it’s what I deserve and you deserve that too. We should both be making these promises that can be kept and push us forward and strengthen our bond. Anyway, I bought you a ring too. I’ll know when you’ve decided to jump in and make that promise alongside me when I see that ring on your beautiful, beautiful fingers.

Love, Lance ”

“Just know that you put that on whenever you’re comfortable. The ball’s in your court,” Lance said as he hurriedly took off his jeans and switched them out to his shorts and switched his sleeveless turtleneck to a sleeveless muscle tee. He fumbled with the strings of his shoes and when Keith saw, he moved Lance’s hands out the way, “You’re giving me anxiety. Let me tie them,” He brought the strings through their correct loops with steady hands, “There,” he said. He kissed Lance softly on his forehead, pressing theirs together afterward, “Go kill it out there.”

“You make me really happy.”

“You say that like it’s a fact.”

“Is it not?” He asked as he dashed out of the locker room off to the gym that reeked of intoxicatingly fresh spray-paint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~STRAWBERRY~  
> {3,217 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	7. Day 6- Six Geese A-Laying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila walked over to their table and started, "Good morning, sunshine how ya' doin' this mo—" She looked at Keith who lay draped against the table beneath the big seats of the booth, barely awake with Lance's fingers running through his hair. "Well, who do we have here?"  
> Lance looked up and smiled brightly, cutting through the dark scene outdoors, "This," he said tapping the boy softly so he'd sit up, "Is Keith."

Keith woke up to an alarm set an hour earlier than usual. The sound cut through the unfamiliar silence that was 6 and he could still hear crickets cooing out to the world, invisible in the tall grass of the front yard.

When crawling out from under his warm sheets, the bed creaked like it would collapse under the pressure of his body any second. Without socks, his feet grew cold with the breeze from his open window brushing against his toes, making them curl inward, barricading themselves from the bitter cold. 

He got up to close it, stretching out his back and popping a few knuckles. But for a moment, he sat at the windowsill, staring out onto his painfully suburban neighborhood. Everyone in their homes, asleep and lost in their own dreamworlds. Probably families, some that’d grown from nothing and worked their way up in life to finally reach this quiet, Wednesday morning. It was a stretch but maybe some foster kids who shared his fate in managing to find a nice and cozy home… He hoped for that.

With a deep breath, he finally closed the window with a loud shutter, freezing a moment after to make sure he hadn’t woken Shiro who was probably draped across the couch passed out right about now.

He walked over to his closet and opened the door with a _creak_. _I really need to put some oil on that_ , he thought. He pulled out a long-sleeved, plaid button up, which was so long it touched his carpet when he laid it across the edge of his bed; along with a pair of black ripped jeans and his grey beanie.

When he finally finished getting ready, he walked downstairs, each step whining under his footsteps. He looked suspiciously when a warm, orange light poured from their lamp in the kitchen and when he reached the bottom step, he saw him.

Lance. Lance was sitting at his kitchen table reading a book he’d found lying on, said, table. Keith knew because it was his book that Lance had found which was now resting in his hands, being scanned over with his soft, blue eyes that looked almost green against the warm light swallowing their kitchen, like washed up sea glass on the shoreline of a beach.

Keith titled his head in confusion but still smiled. “Hey there,” he whispered, careful not to wake Shiro who was, in fact, passed out on their red couch.

Lance was sinking within the pages of the book, nose-deep into the story; the words practically popping off the pages, so Keith’s voice breaking through the silence startled him and made him leap out of his seat then hit his knee on the glass table. “H- Hey! Sorry,” _damn it_ , he thought, “Sorry, you scared me.”

“Clearly,” Keith said trying to suppress his laugh, “But um, why are you hear exactly? I thought I was going to meet you at the café. Also, how did you get into my house?”

                “ The 12 Days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

                {Christmas Present} Day 6- Six Geese A-Laying

                So, when I was thinking about what to do today, the “Six Geese A-Laying” could only make me think of eggs. And when does one eat eggs? Breakfast, of course. So, I want to take you out to breakfast <3 There’s this one place right by your bus stop, so I’ll send you the address and there’s someone there who I’m sure would love to meet you. What this has to do with Christmas Present you might ask? Don’t worry, I’ll explain once we get to the café.

Love, Lance ”

Lance put the book down when seeing the confusion dawning on Keith’s face. “Oh, yeah okay, this probably seems super weird. Okay, so I figured I’d just come and pick you up instead of you having to walk when I woke up and saw that it was snowing. And when I came over, Shiro was just getting from work I think and he let me in with him.”

“Oh,” Keith’s face started to redden, “Well, good to know you didn’t just break into my house.”

The two laughed and then hushed each other when Shiro stirred a bit on the couch, limbs dangling off the edges. “Alright,” Lance said, “Let’s get going.”

❅

When the two walked out of the house, the frigid breeze took them by surprise, Keith especially who realized that he’d forgotten his entire coat on the hook in the hallway inside; running in and out in less than 5 seconds, fumbling to get it on as he almost tripped on his way to the car.

Snow fell through the sky looking like the charms hanging from a baby’s mobile. The white dots, a veil between his eyes and his surroundings.

“Hey, Ronna. Everything, okay? Are you sure? Okay, are you dressed for school? Great job. Look at how responsible you are,” Keith scrambled into the passenger’s seat, “Okay, just make sure you don’t miss the bus. Out at exactly 6:50, got it? Alright… Love you too.”

“Is she alright?” Keith asked softly.

“She sounds alright. I just wanted to check up on her. I knew she’d probably be a little nervous on her own. Even if it is just for one morning.”

Keith placed a hand on Lance’s that rested on the steering wheel, shaking slightly. “I figure you would be too… but don’t worry. It’s just for an hour or two before she’s off to school.”

“Yeah,” he looked over at the smaller boy, saw him wrapped up in his coat, trying to cocoon all of the warmth he had, “Thanks.” He intertwined his lanky fingers with Keith’s, driving down their street enveloped in silence besides the wheels rumbling against the uneven pavement.  

❅

The sun was just starting to shine through the clouds a bit, yet barely, when they reached the café. Keith let his muscles relax and a soft, satisfied smile brush his features. He much preferred this to running and rushing every morning to get to a bus that had no mercy on whether or not he missed it.

The two walked through the doors, hand in hand, the bell at the top dingling through the sound of the winding flurries on the other side. Lance grabbed one menu from a set resting up front. “Back here,” he said directing Keith over to his regular booth near the back by the big window he loved to look through every morning.

Mila walked over to their table and started, “Good morning, sunshine how ya’ doin’ this mo—” She looked at Keith who lay draped against the table beneath the big seats of the booth, barely awake with Lance’s fingers running through his hair. “Well, who do we have here?”

Lance looked up and smiled brightly, cutting through the dark scene outdoors, “This,” he said tapping the boy softly so he’d sit up, “Is Keith.”

Keith held his head up for a moment and barely waved, then rested his head back onto the table.

Mila smiled. “Well, hey Keith. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally meet me?” the boy asked, his voice muffled by his cheek smushed against the table.

“Umm… I’m gonna leave you two alone, but I’ll bring you a lemonade, Lance.”

“Can you make it two?”

“Oh, so we have two lemonade lovers? Alright, I’ve gotcha,” she said with a smirk as she walked off towards their fountain drink machine.

“Hey, sleepy head. Would you rather sleep or hear me explain why I brought you here?” Lance asked, laughing quietly.

“I wanna hear why you brought me here, please. It may look like I’m sleeping, but I’m not. I promise the half of my consciousness that’s still here is listening. Also, is that the bus I hear outside?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Lance pressed a pillow-soft kiss to Keith’s head, “I’ll take you to school.”

Mila sat their drinks on the table and walked off, trying not to interrupt their moment. But she watched the scene play out from the front desk, trying to suppress a smile while talking to another customer who’d just walked through the door.

“Okay well, starting off with that waitress. Her name is Mila and she knows you because I come here every morning just to see you run along that sidewalk,” he said pointing outside, “And rush to your bus. It reminded me of when you’d be here with me, laid out just like you are now, exhausted from waking up so early yet still listening to me ramble on about anything and everything. I don’t know. I just knew I wanted to see you _somehow_ yet still give you your space. Which kind of sounds a little stalker-ish now that I say it aloud, but still. It gave me hope that last year wouldn’t be the end of us.”

He took a breath and continued to run his fingers through the knots and tangles of Keith’s mullet. “Anyway, so Mila would pretty much be my server every single day and we’re kind of friends now, I guess. Which is why I’ve talked to her about you. Allura had her looking after me when her and I weren’t talking just to make sure I wasn’t getting hit on by my dad as much which was sweet in a way. But yeah,” he paused to shake his head a bit as if trying to get his thoughts together, “I know I’m kind of all over the place but really the reason I brought you here is that even though I know if I get to call you my boyfriend again one day some things are gonna be different… that some things _should_ be different; I want this place to be a part of it; a part of us. It’s pretty nice don’t you think?”

Keith shifted into Lance’s embrace. “Whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ ~  
> {1, 655 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	8. Day 7- Seven Swans A-Swimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith smirked with his eyebrows raised into the mirror as he pulled his ponytail tight in its spot on his head. He walked over to Lance and held the boy's chin loosely, "Put my stuff away in my locker for me?" He paused before walking out the door, "Love."  
> "Sure thing," Lance whispered exasperated and dumbfounded, all in the same breath.

Keith sat on a cold wooden bench outside the school’s front doors, his hands shivering in his pockets and the bottom half of his face drawn into his scarf. A soft breeze blew dark-colored leaves across his feet and above his head, an entire flurry of them pushing past his form. Just as the sun started to peak through the clouds and shine down on his body, loosening his muscles, a white car pulled up front.

The boy stood up, a smile pressing against the fabric covering the bottom half of his face, and walked over to knock on the fogged-up window of the passenger’s side. A click came from the inside and he let himself slip into the warmth that was the passenger seat of Lance’s McClain’s white Sedan.

      “ The 12 days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

        {Christmas Present} Day 7- Seven Swans A Swimming

                How about we skip last period and take a little trip? Meet me outside at 12:00 at the front of the school and I’ll come and get you in my car. I’ll explain what we’re doing on the way there ;)

     Love, Lance

     P.S. bring swim trunks ”

Lance looked at him with a humored smile. “I like the glasses.”

Keith looked out the window and blushed as the car started rolling down the street. “I forgot my contacts, okay? I just hope this doesn’t mess up your plans that you just had to be oh-so-secretive about.”

“Oh! Right, you still have no idea what we’re doing, do you? Well, I thought it was kind of obvious considering I told you to bring swim trunks, but um, we’re going swimming!”

The color seemed to drain from Keith’s skin in a flood when the word ‘swim’ slipped through Lance’s lips. “We’re… we’re going swimming?”

“I know, I know. It’s cold outside, right? Don’t worry, it’s a heated, indoor pool that I found nearby—”

“No! It’s not about it being too cold! It could be 20 degrees outside for all I care! The issue is that I don’t know how to swim and you know that… At least I thought you did.”

“Well, of course, I knew that silly,” he bopped Keith softly on the nose, “The whole point of this is for you to learn something new! I know you’re like… deathly afraid of water, but it’s not like this is the ocean. It’s an indoor pool. So… just calm down,” he placed his right hand gingerly on Keith’s, “and trust me, would ‘ya?”

Keith rested his head against the door and tapped his fingers rhythmically against the seat. “Fine. But if I drown, I swear my ghost _will_ come back and push you into the pool, got it?”

Lance’s laugh vibrated against the seat and he had to bring their speed all the down to 20 mph to avoid oncoming cars speeding past them. He clutched at his side and looking over to see the other boy smirking. “Oh, come on, I know you wanna smile! This is gonna be fun! Don’t be all grumpy, please?”

Keith tried to hold a scowl for as long as he could which morphed into a grimace and slowly then turned to a sly smirk and finally a half smile. “Fine. Just… Just make sure I don’t drown, okay?”

“Dually noted.”

❅

When the two entered the facility, Lance walked up to the front desk then turned to Keith and said, “Go ahead to the locker rooms, love. I’ve got this handled.”

“Did you just—” Lance kicked Keith subtly in the ankle and the short, oblivious boy suddenly noticed a neon sign on the wall that read ‘Half-off couples all week!’. The boy looked at the lady at the front desk with a fake smile and said to Lance, “You’re so sweet,” he pecked the taller boy on the cheek, “See you in there, hun.”

He walked off towards the locker rooms, not knowing exactly where they were, but following the signs plastered above each hallway entrance as his footsteps echoed down the empty array of each tiled corridor. The silence gave him goosebumps and the feeling that someone was trailing behind.

He finally reached a diamond-shaped sign that read, ‘Locker Rooms: Men’ and entered to find not one other person inside the entire section. “Hello?” His voice bounced against the wall. _Well,_ he thought _, at least I don’t have to worry about naked old men showing off their bare bodies_.

He walked over to an open section, far from the door just in case anyone decided to make any surprise or last-minute visits. He stripped and pulled out the swim trunks tucked within his bookbag beneath mountains of notebooks and paper and pens. He was always a shopaholic during the back to school season, and he paid dearly for it with a four-pound bookbag dragging him down every day of the school week from class to class.

After grabbing a towel provided by the building, he walked over to a mirror with lights surrounding the frame that gave his skin a yellow-ish glow and made his eyes water from bright tension. Pulling off the grey beanie on his head, he pulled a black hair tie from his wrist and brought his long hair into a ponytail; redoing it 5 times over because it was ‘too far to the left’ or ‘too high’ or ‘looked too much like a school girl’.

Suddenly, Lance walked in and stopped in his tracks when he saw the figure of the smaller boy enveloped in bright light as if the universe was putting his body in the spotlight for only his viewing pleasure. “Wow,” he said, scanning the picture before him up and down and raking the waves of muscle on display with those eyes that sparkled like jewels.

Keith smirked with his eyebrows raised into the mirror as he pulled his ponytail tight in its spot on his head. He walked over to Lance and held the boy’s chin loosely, “Put my stuff away in my locker for me?” He paused before walking out the door, “ _Love_.”

“Sure thing,” he whispered exasperated and dumbfounded, all in the same breath.

❅

Keith sat on the edge of the pool, tapping his toes along the top of the water, making ripples in the clear surface. Each splash echoed eerily against the rest of the room, but the silence eventually crept back in through the cracks he could see in the plastic, ground floor. The water sparkled from the subtle rays of sunlight reflecting off of the glass on the ceiling and Keith looked up to see clouds slowly but surely covering the sky once more, enveloping the shine before it could even have the chance to say hello.

Suddenly, footsteps overpowered the sound of rippling water and Keith had a partner fall next to him on the edge. “Can you see anything? Your glasses are pretty fogged up.”

“Not really. I guess I should just take them off. They won’t do me any good in the water, anyway.”

“Here, let me go put them on the table,” Lance said, with his hand out ready to take them.

“Thanks—” But as soon as Lance had the boy’s glasses in his grasp, he pushed Keith into the six-foot-deep water and grabbed his hand before he dipped any further than his neck. Keith let out a squeak and such a decorative array of different insults, you’d think he was a sailor out and about on the seven seas.

Lance smirked and pushed the glasses a bit further than the edge to make sure they were safe from plummeting into the water, facing the same fate as their owner. “Let’s get started… _hun_.”

He pulled Keith above water and jumped in right alongside him, still keeping a grip on the smaller boy’s hand.

“Lance—”

“Keith, you were literally only able to tap the top of the water with your feet a few seconds ago and we only have about 2 hours in here so we can’t waste time. You’re leaving here knowing how to swim, so I pushed you in to wake you up! Plus, I took your glasses so they wouldn’t get messed up and I held your hand when you—” Keith suddenly yanked Lance underwater with him and Lance pulled them both back up to the surface coughing up water.

Keith laughed at Lance’s attempt to spit out the chlorine taste that’d gotten into his mouth and said, “Alright. _Now_ , let’s get started.”

Lance pulled him over to the side of the pool and told him to, “Place both hands on the edge like so,” he gripped the gravelly perimeter, “And kick your legs up and down until you’re floating.”

Keith’s legs flopped against the water with no rhyme or rhythm and the splashing was enough to make Lance duck underwater in fear. “Okay, okay, okay! Stop,” he said laughing and catching his breath in heaved sighs, “You have to do it one leg at a time, in a rhythm sort of, you know?” He demonstrated doing his left leg above water, then his right; swaying them both above and under in a tick-tock rhythm. He drifted over Keith and pressed one hand on the top of his back and on his stomach, which raised the boy as if he were already floating. “Now, kick.”

Slowly but surely, Keith started to look less like a flailing mermaid out of water and more like Ariel herself. Lance started to show him how to do strokes properly and how to move through the water with grace and agility, all in a mere hour. All in all, Keith was a fast learner and it showed. Soon, he was able to keep himself afloat, feet cutting through the water beneath him and was even able to race from the front of the pool to the back against Lance; even catching a win every now and then.

For a moment they took a break, backs resting against the rough, pool wall. Keith pushed himself up onto the edge because he could barely breathe with the water weighing him down. “I think I did pretty,” he heaved a heavy sigh, “I think… Oh, wow… Okay, I can’t breathe. I think I did pretty good.”

Lance put his hand, dripping and slimy on Keith’s, looking at him with wide, blue eyes that sparkled just as bright as the gleaming water. Their hair fell into their faces and it split their view of one another. “You did absolutely,” he reached up out of the water and brushed one of Keith’s strands, jet black and daunting, out of the way, “Absolutely amazing. You were so scared, but you did it. I’m proud of you for even trying—” And that’s when everything stopped.

Time stopped. Lance stopped breathing. The ripples within the water, frozen in their position. It all stopped when Keith pressed his lips against Lance’s mouth now frozen in time along with everything else in the room. His head cradled in Keith’s wrinkled fingers, lifted up to reach the smaller boy’s face. Keith pulled back ever so slightly, still so close that when his lips curved into a full smile, Lance could feel them change their shape and the warmth that radiated off of them sent a shiver down his spine.

“I… I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to spring that on you so… I didn’t mean to—”

Lance lifted himself out of the water, rubbing the back of his thigh against the wall’s rough surface, and sat next to Keith on the edge. He stared at him with a wide smile, like the Cheshire cat, yet less maniacal and more joyful; joy practically spewing from his teeth. “Stop apologizing. I’ve been waiting for that spark… that… _feeling_ for a year now.”

They sat for a minute in their rekindled fire, basking in the enveloped silence. A pocket of the universe, stolen for them and for this moment.

“Would you maybe… wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Lance asked, his eyes cutting the side, hiding his embarrassment of the possibility of rejection. “I mean… if you don’t already have… plans you know…”

“I’ll just check my nonexistent calendar and cancel my nonexistent date with my nonexistent ex-boyfriend.”

“Wait. Ex-boyfriend? Well, what does that make us? You don’t exactly have the ring I gave you on those pretty little fingers yet…”

“I know… And for right now, I have no idea what we are. But what I do know is that you make me smile when I don’t want to smile so… I have no idea, but I kind of like that that’s what you do to me… don’t you?”

“I do… And we don’t need a title,” Keith gave him a soft kiss on his freckled nose, almost able to taste the sprinkles on the boy’s face, “As long as I get to have… those and be places like this… with you, I don’t care what we call ourselves.”

“Are you sure?” Keith asked, concerned tinting his tone.

“… Whatever you want.” Lance looked down at the water still swaddling their feet. “How about we go dry off and have some dinner?”

Keith smiled. “Whatever you want.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ ~  
> {2,202 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	9. Day 8- Eight Maids A-Milking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance ran down the stairs and stopped at the kitchen where his mom still sat eating what was left of the dinner Paola had prepared. "Really, mom? Was all of that really necessary?"
> 
> "Was what necessary," she said, fury gracing her words, "Asking what the hell was wrong with a child who waltzes back into my house after leaving my son for a year? Yeah. Yeah, it was. And you've got a lotta nerve, kid, coming at me like that in front of everyone—"
> 
> "I could say the exact same thing."

The two sat in silence as Lance drove them down the monotonous highway streets, the only noise cutting through the tension being the GPS dishing out directions and Keith tapping his index finger, harsh and fast-paced, against the gearshift. When Lance looked over to his passenger’s side every now and then, he could feel the nerves radiating from Keith’s bouncing leg which moved so quickly that it looked like the wings of a helicopter about to take flight.

The shaking boy stared hard out towards the monochromatic sky as if trying to see the starlight hidden lightyears beyond the clouds. The bushes forming the perimeter of the road seemed to be the only dim source of color for miles, everything else neutral. Sparse, brown tree branches looming over like shadowed claws reaching out for the car itself. Dying leaves caught between the street and the sidewalk.

Lance looked out with his eyebrows scrunched, confused as to why Keith had been acting so distant since they’d left the pool. He was like a ghost, sitting there, an object so close yet untouchable. _I have to say something_ , he thought, _it can’t just be lollipops and rainbows all the time if this is gonna work_. _But_ , he thought, _what if he just wants space. He doesn’t exactly look ready to spill his thoughts out on a silver_ —

“I can feel you staring at me,” Keith said with his arms crossed, still staring out onto the cars trudging ahead, “You should keep your eyes on the road. I’d rather not crash.”

Lance slowly turned his head back to the wheel. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in a pretty good mood after getting a kiss from someone I’ve been pining after for like a year,” he glanced at the other boy with his face rested in his hand looking at Lance in the corner of his eye, “But you? Not so much.”

It was clear as day how much it pained Lance to have those words leave his mouth; to accuse Keith of something that was so obviously untrue. _But_ , he thought, _I have to get his attention somehow. I have to get him to tell me what’s up_.

“You know it’s not that. After everything you’ve done for me and after everything we’ve been through and how much I… wouldn’t… How much I wouldn’t mind being with you… in the future… at some point, it could never be that and you know it.”

Lance looked at him and took a relieved sigh, now knowing for sure that Keith felt the same as he did about the prospect of them being together.

“But I think I’m allowed to be a little nervous considering this is the first time I’ve been over your parent’s house since… since the break-up. I just don’t want to… I don’t want it to be my fault that an argument springs up between those two.” Keith pulled his legs up to his chest and his face sank between his legs in embarrassment.

Lance looked forward, a match lit within his eyes. “Keith, if I’m being honest, I don’t want you to think that that’s your problem or your responsibility to worry about. Those two fight when they want and the last thing I’d ever want you to think is that you’re the cause of anything they do. Now,” he ran his free hand through the wet and knotted strands of Keith’s hair and lifted the boy’s face up in his direction, “Let’s go have a nice dinner, okay?”

Keith unraveled his body from its knot and laid against the seat in a way where Lance could keep running his cold fingers through his hair. “Okay.”

“Oh, and since you’re coming over tonight and not tomorrow, you’re gonna need this.” Lance pulled out an envelope which was slightly crumpled from being stuffed in the compartment in front of the passenger seat.

“ The 12 Days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

{Christmas Present} Day 8- Eight Maids A-Milking

                Well, we have a maid in the house now, but she’s more like family to all the kids. I asked if she’d cook for everyone tonight and she said she’d be happy to. So, what do ‘ya say? Let’s have dinner at my place! Sure, there might be some screaming here and there, but how about we make it about us? And I’m pretty confident Ronna would love to see you again. <3

Love, Lance ”

“So, we’re doing a twin-in-one thing today?” Keith asked.

“Not my original plan, but I think it should be fun.”

❅

 _7:00_. That’s what time the clock on the microwave read when Keith looked over to it in a moment of desperately dodging eye contact with Lance’s mother. The woman stared daggers through his lids while the family ate quietly at the dinner table. The sound of their forks scraping against their plates echoed throughout the dining room.

Ronna, who must’ve sensed the hostile energy circulating and kneading its way into the oxygen, kept her head low and her chewing quietly. Her movements were slow, as if not to anger or disturb anyone within a 50-mile radius, but her eyes that flicked up every now and then were pointed calculating at her mother who soon decided to break the ice in her own distinct way.

“So,” she wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin rested in her lap, “When exactly _did_ you come crawling back to my son after you left him in the dust, what? A year ago?” Her words direct and her voice husky.

Everyone looked at her wide-eyed and horrified. Everyone except Keith who responded with a fake smile. He was expecting this situation, considering Lance’s mother had always been a spitfire who wasn’t afraid to point out the elephant casting a shadow over the room.

“Well, it was actually Lance,” Keith rested his hand on the other boy’s which shook on his leg beneath the table, “Who came and found _me_. It was in the sweetest possible way, too. I couldn’t be luckier. But, of course, you already know that. He is _your son_ after all.”

That’s when Lance’s father decided to speak up, ice clinking in his glass filled with a liquid that gleamed like bronze. “Oh, come on, Ivanna. Is that really the way to welcome our guest into the house? Maybe show some manners.” His voice sounded as if he was gurgling bubbles in his throat.

She gave him a small smile, a grimace clearly hidden underneath. “Right after you decide to pour that drink down the sink,” she said, dark blue eyes still locked onto Keith, drowning him like an ocean’s crashing wave. “Anyway, back to you.”

“He _does_ have a name, you know?” Lance said, looking down at his plate, picking absentmindedly through his food.

His dad cut his eyes over to the boy, rolled his eyes, and scoffed. “Wow, kid. As if she didn’t know that already.”

“Would’ve been clearer if she’d actually used it.”

“I can speak for myself, thanks,” Ivanna, Lance’s mother, said; eyes still pointed at Keith. “Anyway, _Keith_ , I don’t remember getting a reason for you leaving my son out of the blue with absolutely no explanation—”

Keith went to open his mouth but Lance fired back, eyes pointed at the woman leaned over her plate, arms crossed.

“And he’s not obligated to give you one either. So, if that’s all you had to say,” he stood up out of his chair and began collecting his, Keith’s, and Ronna’s empty plates. “Thank you so much, Paola. It was delicious. Would you mind tucking Ronna into bed?”

“Of course, sir.”

Keith, still sitting in his chair, popped out of his daze and stood up, brushing off his jeans and following Lance up the stairs towards his room. “Lance, I am so sorry—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Lance said deadpan, “Just another Thursday night in the McClain household.”

❅

“So,” Keith said swaying on the edge of Lance’s waterbed, “Since when do you stand up to your parents like that? Not that… I’m complaining or anything.”

Lance laid splayed out onto the floor, tossing a piece of slime he morphed into a ball, up and down above his head. “I don’t know. I guess… I mean I realized that there was really… I just really wasn’t gonna survive in this place if I didn’t learn how to stand up for myself.” He stopped with the tossing when he threw it too hard and it stuck to the ceiling and sat up to face Keith. “I guess if I think about it, it’s more for Ronna’s sake. I don’t want her living out her days in this house with her head down, scared to even like, speak, you know? I just wanna set a strong example for a strong kid which is exactly what she is.”

“I get it.”

“Yeah…” Lance looked out onto the hallway leading downstairs outside his bedroom door, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walked past Ronna’s room to see her getting tucked in by Paola, and walked in with a soft knock on her door. “Thanks, Paola, you can head on home now,” he whispered. The lady’s eyes looked sunken and puffy when she walked past him, a few tears running down her dark cheek that she hurriedly wiped away.

Lance took a look at his sister in bed who had tears in her eyes as well that dropped down onto her blankets in silent splashes. He stroked her long, black hair, and laid with her for a moment while she tried to suppress her hiccupped sobs. “Shhh…” Lance said. “It’s all gonna be better one-day baby girl. I promise you that with everything I’ve got. Everything’s gonna be better one day.”

“Is that how you— how you get yourself to st—stop crying?”

He got up and walked over to the bookshelf next to her bed and picked up her favorite book of stories to hear on nights when an escape from her own story was all she needed. 

“Yeah. A story never hurt either.”

A fairytale read from her favorite book and a soft kissed pressed against her forehead. It was at least a sliver of everything a kid deserved.

❅

Lance ran down the stairs and stopped at the kitchen where his mom still sat eating what was left of the dinner Paola had prepared. “Really, mom? Was all of _that_ really necessary?”

“Was _what_ necessary,” she said, fury gracing her words, “Asking what the hell was wrong with a child who waltzes back into _my_ house after leaving _my_ son for a year? Yeah. Yeah, it was. And you’ve got a lotta nerve, kid, coming at me like that in front of everyone—”

“I could say the _exact_ same thing.”

At this point, Keith heard their muffled whispers against Lance’s closed door and sat near the edge of the doorway to listen further. _I probably should give them their space_ , he thought. But his ear stayed pressed against the thin wood.

“You have absolutely _no_ idea what I’ve been through today with your idiotic father. And what have you been doing? Going to school? Parading around with your new boyfriend in that precious car of yours? You have _no_ right to be giving me _any_ kind of disrespect when I’m the one staying at home and dealing with this man’s shit all damn day. _No right_ , whatsoever.” 

“Just because I’m not as miserable as you seem to be, doesn’t make you any more undeserving of disrespect,” Lance shot back, “And the fact that your child’s _happiness_ does nothing but put you in despair and the fact that the way you decided to express your anger about our dad pissing you off was by insulting a _guest_ that I brought into our home says a lot more about _you_ than it does about me.”

Ivanna’s fists clenched at her sides and she looked down with her mouth closed, at a loss for words. He continued, “So, I suggest you jump off of your high horse because no matter how many times either you or dad hits me or taunts me or completely dehumanizes me, I could not give a single damn anymore if I tried because this goes beyond me. You’re absolutely _insane_ to think I’ll let it slide when you utterly disrespect and terrify the people I love,” he said pointing upstairs, “Which has a _very_ short list where your name became nonexistent a _long_ time ago,” he paused to take a breath and Keith let out one as well, not even realizing he’d been holding one in, “Just… Don’t ever think it’s okay to humiliate Keith like that again. And maybe you’d think twice about arguing so much when it ends with your own _daughter_ crying herself to sleep.”

“You little—”

“What?” Lance said shortly. He got silence in return.

When he walked back upstairs, Keith scrambled onto the bean bag in the corner.

Lance heaved a sigh when he entered the room and sat in Keith’s lap with his arms wrapped around the boy’s waist. “Sorry I started yelling. You probably heard everything I said… my bad,” he whispered. “Looks like we’re back at square one. You comforting me like I’m a little kid who can’t handle his own life issues.”

“Shhh…” Keith said. “This is nothing like how it used to be. You do realize that you just stood up to _your mother_ , right? I’m so proud of you,” he rubbed circles around the boy’s shoulder blade, “You’ve grown into someone so amazingly strong. Ivanna never knew what hit her.”

Lance looked at his bedroom, at the dim light coming from his lamp resting on his dresser, his head tucked into Keith’s chest. “Yeah… I guess she didn’t. I kind of feel bad if I’m being honest. She did all of that to us because of my dad pissing her off so I can’t help but—”

“Hey,” Keith interrupted, “None of that. What did you tell me in the car? You didn’t want me thinking that any of this was my fault, so I refuse to let you think it’s yours, got it?”

Lance smiled, “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ ~  
> {2,378 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	10. Day 9- Nine Ladies Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You really are just a beast today, huh?" Lance said. But, What has gotten into him, is what he thought.  
> ❅  
> That's what, Lance told himself as he watched Keith, mouth gaping, in their salsa class perform the routine, that they'd learned less than 20 minutes ago, in front of the entire class. It was a duet piece and he'd never looked more confident, the sexualized cockiness practically spewing from his forehead along with the sweat.  
> The perfect Salsa attitude.

Ronna walked into her brother’s bedroom, her arm wrapped around the waistline of her pink, fluffy robe. The faded sunlight passing through his curtain made her olive skin glow and her long, black hair shine with streaks of light. “Hey…” she whispered, “Sleepyheads, wake up.” She came in a few steps further, careful to keep from the wooden floor creaking beneath her feet. “Hey.” She tapped Keith on his shoulder and he jolted awake, accidentally going skull to skull with Lance. Though, the sleeping boy barely reacted and kept snoring like a hibernating bear blanketed in winter snows. 

“Oh! Ow,” Keith said, rubbing his head as it swayed and trying to level out his vision. “He-Hey Ron. What’s up?” 

“We’re like an hour late I think and I have this bake sale to get to this morning. I… My alarm wasn’t set right or something… I just need you and Lance to take me to school. Pretty please?” She cupped her hands together and pleaded, knowing that it was an inconvenience to wake the two up when they were sleeping so soundly and could’ve skipped school today if they wished. 

“Hey,” Keith shook Lance’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him, “Wake up.” Lance groaned in response and turned over, the bean bag rustling underneath him. “Seriously? Come on now, get up. You have to drop Ronna off at school and we’re late,” he whispered. 

Lance finally came to surface with everyone else, his lids opening slowly but surely and squinting against the light from the lamp that still shined from his dresser. “Can you two please chill. Ronna just,” he wiped his face groggily, “Just go get an outfit together and get dressed while Keith and I do too. We’ll stop at the bakery if you’re fine with being late.” His voice was like a cheese grater to the silence, raspy and rough. 

“Yeah, that’s okay,” the girl said as she tiptoed down the hallway and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a whispered knock of wood against wood. 

As he was getting up to check his phone for any missed calls from Shiro, Keith stopped at the window and listened as the leaves outdoors played tag with one another; a rustle in their wake. He stared hard, arms resting against the windowsill. 

When Lance got up and stumbled over tiredly to lay his head on Keith’s back, the two sat there for a while; basking in the growing sunlight, letting it sink within their skin. Their breath the only noise for miles, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The wind did rustle outdoors though, pulling tree branches and picking those same leaves up in chaotic swirls. 

This was their last day until their school let them free for winter break and Keith couldn’t have been antsier for his to go ahead and start. A whole two weeks to do whatever he pleased without the expectations of school breathing down his neck like a sleeping dragon sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. The excitement he had and the seemingly endless amount of time in his grasp were almost too much to fathom. 

He had a never-ending list of shows racked up on his list on Netflix that he was dying to get through and he wanted to pull out his notebook to write which was something long overdue, considering all he’d been feeling recently. Maybe it was because he didn’t understand his soul folding in on itself and how to explain such a thing. Or maybe, it was that he believed that the words, so fierce, might burn right through the pages, but nevertheless, his black, Moleskine notebook had yet to be taken out for at least a week. This left his thoughts flowing through his skull in a flurry of disorganization. 

But most importantly, he wanted to practice his violin to prepare for the Uwat violin competition that seemed to creep up on him quicker and quicker the closer it came into view. Thankfully, the nerves had yet to seep in and plague his confidence. Ever since he’d played the Rondo Capriccioso piece with such passion, the music that he evoked was different… deeper, almost as if he could feel it vibrate on an entirely different plane of existence within his soul. It was a living entity in itself now, living and breathing and living and breathing. 

He had a slight idea of what, or more precisely,  _ who _ brought on such an elegant yet powerful connection to him and the songs that he played, but of course he questioned it nevertheless.  _ I’ve just been practicing a lot _ , he would think. Or,  _ It’s because Mrs. Dorona is a fabulous teacher _ . But deep down, he knew that the reason for feeling such a deep resonance within himself was on a different level entirely. He knew it had at least something to do with the boy rested on his back right now, falling into yet another deep sleep when they should’ve been rushing out of the house to leave for school. 

He intertwined his hand with the taller boy’s that hung behind him and he could feel the gesture tighten by the second. Silent, yet ferocious, passion spewing throughout the, almost nonexistent, space between their fingers.  

He could feel the cold of the ring on Lance’s finger as he rubbed his thumb up and down the piece of jewelry. As his thumb ran along that cold, smooth surface, he dazed off and thought about what Lance had said those rings on being on both their fingers would mean about their relationships. The promise that they portrayed. A promise to be their best selves for their own sake and for the sake of being two healed individuals who deserved a happy ending written within the pages of a fairytale. 

It was a lot to ask. With such a tortured childhood leaving him with such an endless yet questioned capacity for love, Keith barely let himself believe that a happy ending was even possible. Let alone, felt as if he deserved one… especially with someone that he connected with so deeply. Which is why his finger stayed undecorated. No tapestry to show off a connection to the person wanted a connection with the most. Because he was unsure if he even deserved such a fate. He unraveled their fingers.  
“Come on, Lance,” he whispered with a twinge of sorrow in his tone, “We should get ready.”  

❅

After the three of them had piled into Lance’s Sedan and drowsily rode down to the bakery, they arrived with Lance not-so-subtly parking, his bumper slightly hitting the curb. He winced and said, “Ronna.” She looked up from yet another pile of unfinished homework, “Go ahead inside for me? Order what you want and tell Allura we’ll be right in, okay? Unless you have too much homework, then I’ll just go in myse—”

“It’s okay. I’m almost… Well, yeah I’m pretty much all done and I wanna go see Allura.” She hopped out the car as quick as Lance had asked with her hair flipping side to side behind her. 

He looked over at Keith who looked half-asleep in the passenger seat and brushed the boy’s bangs out of his eyes. “You are in serious need of some coffee,” he whispered, “Maybe it’ll go well with this.” He handed the tired boy his 9th letter in a perfect envelope, no folds or creases as if it’d be ironed the day of. 

     “ The 12 days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

       {Christmas Past} Day 9- Nine Ladies Dancing

       That’s right, sir. You and I are going dancing! I signed us up for a group salsa class and it’s gonna be so fun! And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance before so let’s give it a shot, shall we? We won’t be out too late, so Shiro won’t have to worry :) I promise. 

Love, Lance "

Keith looked down at the letter and tried to suppress a smirk as he made sure he was reading it properly; that the words weren’t floating off of the page, giving him an illusion of the perfect date scenario and yet, it wasn’t. It was exactly as he thought and as it read and Keith tried to nonchalantly pull down the suspiciously large smile growing on his face. 

Lance eyed him carefully as he took off his seatbelt and scrunched his eyebrows. “What are you smilin’ about?” 

Keith yawned and folded the piece of paper, tucking it back into the envelope safe and sound. “Oh, it’s nothing. Let’s go get that food, I’ll pay this time.” He pressed a warm and pillow-soft kiss against Lance’s cheek before hopping out of the car too quick to even measure. 

Lance followed suit, getting out of the car hesitantly, but overall letting the situation float right over his head. “Can’t say no to that, now can I?"

When they walked into the Ballet Bakery, Keith looked up to see that the cashier was none other than Allura in a visor with her long her pulled into the most fabulous ponytail he’d ever seen. “Allura?” He turned to Lance. “I thought we were just meeting her here or something.” He turned back to Allura. “I didn’t know you got a job here. Congrats! Why didn’t you tell me when we were talking last night?” 

The tall girl flashed a smile at the pair. “Well, I would have but you were a bit too preoccupied with staring at Lance while we were facetiming and talking about Lance so I figured I’d just listen to you spill some tea.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to call me out like that,” he said laughing and blushing when Lance looked at him as if to say, ‘ _ Oh, so you were talking about me, huh _ ?’   
“But yeah as you can see, I got a job here. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was called the best manager they’ve ever had, but seriously, I’m killing it. And don’t you three just look like one big happy family walking in here? How can I help you today little one?” she asked, picking up Ronna when she ran to her behind the counter. 

“Hi, Allura!” 

“Hey, Ronna! It’s so good to see that pretty little smile again. How are you?” she asked running her fingers along the loose strands of the girl’s long, braided hair. 

“I’m good.” 

“Well, isn’t that just the best news. I’d love to spend some more time with you all and chat, but the line is piling up behind you. You’re in a bit later than usual so I suggest you get off to school,” she nestled Ronna’s nose softly, “Especially you.” 

She handed them their food in the blink of an eye and they were out the door in seconds, waving on the way out. 

❅

Centimeters. The volleyball that Keith had jumped up and spiked over the net was centimeters from taking off Lance’s head like the Queen of Hearts sentencing him to his Wonderlandesque punishment.  

“Come on, McClain!” Keith yelled with his arms outstretched and taunting. “I thought of all people you’d be the one to give me at least a little competition to work with today.” 

But Lance couldn’t. His mind was on a completely different (astral) plane of existence, so focus was out of the question. He couldn’t help but notice the way Keith smirked and smiled cockily all throughout PE with his head so deep into the game, you’d think he was suffocating. 

When he cocked an eyebrow in an attempt to see what the hell had gotten into him, the shorter boy simply shrugged in response.    
He watched Keith play wildly, like a madman on steroids, and couldn’t help but notice the way the strands that’d fallen out of the boy’s ponytail fell sloppily across his face. The way his perfectly sculpted legs, shown off by the shorts, rose and fell when he jumped to hit the ball; perfect 90-degree angles in the air.    
But the last hit was when he fell from it. 

He slammed back onto the gym floor with a smack that echoed throughout the empty stands. 

Their PE teacher blew his whistle and it pierced through the chaotic noise that surrounded Keith along with the ringing in his ears from the hard impact. “That’s enough for today! No more volleyball. Everyone hit the locker rooms and get ready to—”

“Coach, its fine!” Keith yelled from the ground. “Just a jammed finger. Let everyone else play, I’ll just sit the rest out.” 

The man nodded from across the room and blew his whistle again, letting everyone know to resume the game. Then,  Keith heard a guy whisper from behind his back. “The violinist wouldn’t wanna hurt his dainty little fingers.” 

The boy whipped around, “Yeah I wouldn’t, considering these hands are sure to make me rich one day while yours won’t even do you any good serving you when you become a male prostitute,” and walked off with silence in his wake. 

Lance had just walked in when that contact went down and looked as Keith strolled over to the benches. He went over and sat with him, checking Keith’s hand frantically and asking what happened and if everything was alright. 

“I’m fine. Nothing broken. Just a jam. I’ll pop it in a minute,” Keith said, a smirk sliding against his features yet again. 

“You really are just a beast today, huh?” Lance said.  _ What has gotten into him? _ Is what he thought. 

❅

_ That’s what _ , Lance told himself as he watched Keith, mouth gaping, in their salsa class perform the routine they’d learned less than 20 minutes ago in front of the entire class. It was a duet piece and he’d never looked more confident; as he always does when performing for large crowds, but this time was different.     
His feet slid across the floor with grace and never made a squeak. His crop top rose and fell with his arms sending a cold breeze against his abdomen on certain movements. 

Lance couldn’t help but stop entirely and eye the way the boy’s hips swayed and the way his legs moved fluid like water. 

How his smile never faltered, his eyes sparkled against the fluorescent lighting, and how he never missed a beat; steps defining each one. He could see him mouth the counts to keep track and the sweat that started to form a sticky layer to his skin like tape. 

And it finally came to an end, punctuated by Keith’s laugh and heavy sighs, the music was paused by their instructor and everyone, including Lance, gave him an uproar of applause that echoed almost ten doors down the hall. 

Keith walked over to his dance partner and smiled, wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s neck, arms sticky when sweat, still gasping for air like a fish out of water. “You kinda left me...” he could barely get in a breath. “Left me hanging there. Why’d you stop dancing?” he whined. 

Lance picked the boy up bridal style, earning a yelp and said, “I thought it was obvious,” he pressed a quick and wild kiss to the boy’s forehead, “You were killing it, that's why! You were amazing and besides,” he took a peek down at Keith’s exposed abs from the blue crop top he’d been wearing, “I much preferred being in the audience. You look good in blue by the way.”

Keith had caught his breath by this point and the two were seated on the floor while another pair performed. “Thanks,  _ love _ ,” he whispered, giving Lance a nudge, “ If we’re on the subject... I wouldn’t hate it if you wore more red.” 

“You wouldn’t hate it, huh?” 

“I would like it,” he said without making eye contact, watching the pair up to dance stumble over each other’s feet with little grace, if any. “Yeah… so besides for fun, of course, why’d you bring me here?” 

“Does there really have to be a reason?” Lance rolled his eyes subtly. 

“Well, no. It’s just, you know, you usually… I was just curio—“ 

“I’m kidding!” Lance said, giving Keith payback for the not-so-soft nudge from earlier. “Of course my dramatic ass has a reason.”

Keith peeled his eyes from the train wreck that was the dynamic duo of uncoordinated ‘dancers’,  _ If they could even be called that _ , and turned back to his… his friend? Boyfriend? Suitor? He had no idea but chose not to worry about the specifics at that moment. “Well, will I just be left in suspense or what?”

“Okay,” Lance whispered, “I brought you here because 1. I want us to have fun like this all the time. Your smile is one of the few things in this world that warm my heart like… I get the same feeling as like walking in a patch of sunlight on a cold day. Anyway, and 2. I thought it would get you out of your head. You’ve got that big violin competition coming up and I didn’t want you all nervous. Plus, you look so happy and free when you dance and I got to see it for the first time today, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” 

Keith smiled then, grabbed Lance’s hand, leading him out the door before he even got a word out to protest. 

The shorter boy leaned his hands against the Cuban's chest and pressed his lips to his, slow and soft like marshmallows swimming in a mug of hot chocolate. He pulled away slowly, eyes still shut like he was scared to see all of the possible expressions on Lance’s face. “Sorry… you’re just so thoughtful... It really makes me lose my mind sometimes I guess.” 

He looked at Keith wide-eyed as if anticipating what the unpredictable teen’s next move would be. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re welcome. I like it when you do that,” Lance said, still leaning against the wall with his cheeks flushed and a shy, awkward smirk lining his mouth. 

“I do too…” Keith said rubbing the back of his neck, “Maybe I should do it more often.” 

“Yeah,” Lance looked to the side absentmindedly down the empty hallway and heard the echo of his fingers tapping against the stone wall ripple through. “Yeah… Maybe you should.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ ~  
> {3,145 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed <3}


	11. Day 10- Ten Lords A-Leaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And maybe that’s the way that things were just supposed to be.

The sound of a quiet knock came from the front porch where Lance stood, hands behind his straightened back and lips pressed together. He rocked from side to side like he was on some kind of invisible seesaw that yanked at his nerves, pulling them to opposite sides of the globe.

Shiro looked up from the book he was reading at the dining room table, and bookmarked his place, placing his finger in between his current page and the next. Walking over to the door, the kitchen tiles were cold against his toes. The freezing temperatures that the winter snows brought in from outdoors seemed to seep through the walls and the floor and all the man could think was, _it is really time to get a space heater_.

Lance saw Shiro look at him through the small, rectangular windows on each side of the door and winced, hoping he wouldn’t simply ignore his existence. Although, it did cross his mind that there was no reason for Shiro to refuse him, to act like his white puffer coat somehow made him blend in with the snow. _Except maybe showing up at his house for like, the second time and interrupting his whole afternoon when he was probably sleepi—_ he was telling himself, just as Shiro opened the door with a warm smile that sent a shiver down his spine considering he was so cold.

“Hey,” Shiro looked down at Lance’s shivering hands, “Oh my gosh, you’re freezing. Come in, come in.” A father figure, per usual, not wanting another one of his boys to suffer from the possibility of hypothermia seeping beneath their skin.

“Th—Thanks,” Lance said through chattering teeth. He walked through the front door, and felt a little warmer, even though inside was only about 10 degrees hotter than outdoors. The rubbing of his fingers between the cashmere of his mittens definitely did help, though. The coat stayed on his body as he passed the coat rack at the end of the hallway and followed Shiro to the dining room table to take a seat.

The taller man walked over to the cabinets in the kitchen, and Lance could see his arms shake as he pulled out a packet of hot chocolate powder and a bag of marshmallows. He winced, seeing Shiro gasp in pain for less than half a second, but he knew that the pain was a demon that’d linger much longer than a mere second. It would follow him, creep within his shadow, walk along sidewalks with him, bartend with him. Everywhere, doing everything.

“You want any hot chocolate?”

“Sure. Hey, how are you feeling, though?” Lance asked, trying not to sound pitiful for Shiro’s disease but ultimately failing. “Is there anything I can get you or do?”

But Shiro didn’t take it as pity. Only a person who saw an opportunity to help and asked if they could act on it. “I’m fine, buddy. Don’t worry about me. I’m doing pretty good these days actually. Little pains like that, nothing I can’t handle,” he said over the rush of water from the faucet filling a pot of water to be boiled for two cups of soothing warmth. “What about you? I mean, shouldn’t you be in school right now? Unless you’re one of those super smarty pants seniors who only has like four classes a day.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “Yeah, I’m one of the smarty-pants seniors. But the school’s out for the break, remember?” 

Shiro placed the pot of boiling water on the stove with a _clank_ and leaned on the counter, eyeing Lance as the boy sat there staring out the window while his leg shook as if it were about to take flight. He heard the boy’s fingers tap against the glass of the circular, table; the sounding ringing throughout the room and pulled out the seat in front of him. The legs scraped against the floor with a nasty sound that would made you squeamish and your teeth taste like copper. “Yeah… my bad. I’m still waking up.”

“Lance, why are you here? Not that I don’t love my little brother’s… whatever you are to him I guess, dropping by. But you seem like something’s up.” He shrugged, sitting in the metal chair backwards, leaning on the back. “So, go ahead and tell me, I wanna help.” 

He looked over at Shiro, finally making eye contact, his eyes watering a bit. “Um,” he wiped a tear hurriedly and Shiro played along acting as if it hadn’t flown down his face; listening intently. “It’s just… The date I have… um, the date I wanted to take him on. I wanna take him to go see The Nutcracker, like at the ballet, but like…” he paused to take a breath, feeling as if his tears were unnecessary and uncalled for.

“But like?” Shiro asked, pushing the conversation forward.

“It’s just, I was thinking about how that was like our dream show to go to… but every time we planned to go, it was one of my stupid breakdowns that—” He let out a suppressed sob.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Shiro jumped up and grabbed the tissue box sitting on top of the bookshelf in the corner, “It’s alright to cry. Just, keep going. Let me know what you’re thinking.”

“Thanks,” he sniffed, “It’s just… it was always me to get in the way of us doing something that he was so excited for. His eyes would literally _light up_ whenever we planned to go and then he didn’t even look… sad when he had to comfort me instead of going. I just… As I’ve been doing these things… these daily presents for him, in the process of fixing everything I did to him last year… I feel so guilty, but I feel like I deserve it in a way. I mean we had one that was on his birthday for god’s sake that he missed just for me.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Sure Lance, Keith may have been upset that you cancelled, but that wasn’t why he broke up with you. You… do know that right? He didn’t break up with you because you were ‘too much’ or something.”

Lance looked up from his feet with puffy eyes, “Wh—What?”

“He broke up with you because you were both… broken.” The man walked over to the stove to finish making their drinks and continued. “Two broken people don’t make for a good couple. Keith was going through a really rough patch with his PTSD, being abused as a child an all…” he visibly winced at even acknowledging that Keith had been hurt so badly, like he didn’t want to relive a memory that didn’t even belong to him, “You, with your parents arguing. They pretty much had you in the palm of their hand, crushing every bone you had. So, yeah… Don’t compare what you two have now to what you had before because you’re not the same people. Keith is happier than I’ve ever seen him before. You, standing up to your parents, and pretty much stepping up and taking care of Ronna like she’s your own—”

“Keith told you about that?”

“That and so much more.” He mixed the brown powder into the water and sprinkled a generous number of marshmallows on top. “So… just give him time. He’s gonna come around eventually. You know him, he’s a hard code to crack.” He said, setting the boy’s cup down on the table with a clink. “And Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Take him to The Nutcracker and say it’s a birthday gift from the both of us?”

“I’ve got you.” He looked down at the book still held in Shiro’s hand, his finger between the pages. “Good book, right?”

“Huh?” He looked down at his free hand. “Oh! Yeah, _Without Tess_. You’ve read it?”

“I started when I came over one morning. I was waiting on Keith and just saw it on the table.” 

“How far did you get?”

“Just the beginning, really.”

Shiro looked down at the book and held it in Lance’s direction. “You can sit here for a while longer and read it… if you want.”

❅

Keith walked into the house an hour later, dusting the snow off of his jacket and his head, hands shaking while he did it. “Hey, Shiro! I’m ho—” He looked up to see Lance sitting at his dining room table reading the overdue book that he’d forgotten to return to the school library before their winter break had started. “You have got to stop breaking into my house. Shiro!”

Lance laughed and doggy-eared the page he was on. “I didn’t break in. Shiro let me in, and he just went out for lunch with some guy. You’d probably know him better than I did. I just came to, um, give you your letter.” He pulled out an envelope folded in half in his pocket. “Don’t get it wet with your gloves though, there’s something… special in there. I’d hate to see it messed up.”

Keith slid the violin resting on his back off and onto the floor, softly, taking into consideration just how fragile and meaningful the object was to him. He pulled off his mittens, one by one, letting the fluffy, wet material tickle his skin and reached for the envelope.

     “ The 12 Days of Christmas belong to you this holiday season.

       {Christmas Future} Day 10- Ten Lords A-Leaping

                I know that I got in the way of us going to see The Nutcracker like 5 times, but you deserve to see it. And I think that it’s the perfect thing to give you considering what day it is. I hope your eyes still light up the way they used to when you see these because that’s all I need in return.

Love, Lance ”

The boy slowly pulled two tickets out of the envelope, hands shaking, and now not just from the freezing temperature. His face lit up like a Christmas tree and his eyes sparkled like the light reflecting off the ornaments. Purple, and black, and dazzling. “Did you…”

“Happy birthday, Keith,” Lance said, a tender smile pulling at his lips.

Keith put his hand on Lance’s that rested outstretched against the cold surface of the table. “Thank you…” Anyone could see the way his cheeks flushed and his smile was larger than life itself. The way his hand sat gently on the other boy’s, yet oozed with sincerity and gratitude.

Lance stood up and pressed a gracious kiss on Keith’s head, a tear of satisfaction running against his own cheek that he brushed away as quickly as it’d come. “I have to go get ready. I’ll be back by seven, okay?”

And with that, he was out the door. The sound of the winds swirling the snowflakes outside ran through the opening hallway and was gone in an instant.

❅

Keith sprang up from the couch when he heard the doorbell out front echo through the hallway, dusting off his dress pants and tightening his red tie so snug he could barely breathe. Pulling at his black vest so there wasn’t a crease in sight, no lines besides the thin, white stripes that topped over the black.

Shiro saw the boy fumbling with last minute touch-ups and decided to answer the door himself; giving Keith a minute to compose himself. When he cracked open the door, Lance was still as a statue besides his teetering from side to side, arms behind his straightened back. “Hey, Shiro. Is… Um, is Keith ready?” he asked, a slight crack in his voice near the end.

“Yeah, he’s about ready.” Shiro eyed the boy’s outfit. Black button-up underneath a blue vest. Dress pants that wrapped snuggly around his legs. His hair gelled back to where only wisps poked out at the edges. “It’s funny.”

“What?” Lance asked, pulling a few loose strands of his hair that gleamed chocolate against the porchlight that drew moths brave enough to venture through the late-night snows. 

“You look just as nervous as him.”

The conversation didn’t continue after Keith stood idly behind Shiro and cleared his throat awkwardly, pushing up his glasses even though they were already resting far enough up on the bridge of his nose. A nervous habit. “H—Hey.”

Lance stared at the shorter boy all gussied up for their night out. Dress pants just like his, both wearing vests. Lance’s blue and Keith’s black. Both wearing button ups underneath. Lance’s black and Keith’s red. “We’re kind of matching,” Lance said grinning. He then pulled out one hand from behind his back with a short rose on display, “Happy birthday, Keith.” He smiled fondly and pushed the flower in the pocket between the boy’s ear and his head.

Keith blushed, realizing Shiro was still sitting behind them, watching and no-doubt taking pictures that he’d blow up to the size of museum paintings. “Thank you.” He pulled out the small, blue tulip that he’d been fiddling with gently between his fingertips and put it in the pocket of Lance’s vest. “For you.”

“I don’t think your eyes have ever looked prettier.”

“Huh? Wh— What? Why?” Keith looked down at his feet and cracked a few knuckles which popped like a crackling fire in the silence between the two.

“You know I love every part of you, but those bangs… they’re always hiding them.” Lance brushed the insignificant wisps that overlapped Keith’s glasses and pushed his chin up with a single finger. “They’re so pretty when you don’t hide them.”

He intertwined their hands and led Keith to the white sedan that matched the color of the snowflakes dusting the sky like stars. “Get enough pictures, Shiro?”

“Definitely.” He waved them goodbye, and Lance could’ve sworn the man brushed a fallen tear as they made their way down the driveway. “You two have fun!”

❅

When they arrived at the entrance to the ballet, Lance handed the tickets over to a woman sitting behind the glass, face resting in her hands, dozing off with her head bobbing as if she was dreaming about falling face-first off of a cliff.

Keith looked down where snow crunched beneath his feet and at his sides where bushes layered with frost glittered mildly against the growing moonlight. _How_ , he thought, _Is this lady not that cold?_ So, he asked, but she didn’t respond.

Lance tapped softly on the glass and her eyes opened just enough to mindlessly take the small papers slid to her through the slit in the wall and stamp both the boys’ hands; proceeding to fall right back to sleep as their footsteps echoed down the walkway towards the inside of the building.

Keith looked back at the woman with respect, knowing he could never stand being out in the cold for that long. Even with the gloves, hat, coat, and scarf he had on, his bones still shook beneath his skin and standing still for too long was absolute torture; the way the cold seemed to seep between the fibers of his clothes like water if he didn’t rock back and forth on the sides of his feet or bounce his leg as if it were revving up to take flight.

“You comin’ or what?” Lance asked, hand outstretched towards Keith who’d stopped walking to look behind him at the falling snow surrounding the booth. He could’ve sworn they were angels raining down from above, miniature of course, but definitely angelic. _How else_ , he asked himself, _how else could I be having such a perfect night? Who else could possibly be giving this, a night like this, to someone like me? Is it something I even deserve? Do I even want this? Have I earned it?_

“Hey, daydreamer. We’re gonna be late,” Lance said, hand still out, dangling in the silence between them; his face changing to something more delicate and concerned. His fingers tensed and the space between his eyebrows crinkled as he stared at Keith who stood idly and out of his reach.

And suddenly, Keith turned back around and grasped the other boy’s shivering hand. Lance pulled him close and Keith’s face was buried in his chest. Keith took a step back and looked into the taller boy’s large, almost comical, eyes. _I used to think_ , he told himself, _that his eyes were like the ocean; so deep I wouldn’t dare swim in them. Scared to drown and be eaten alive by whatever lay in their depths. But now…_ he thought _, now they look like the sky. Endless. Infinite. Limitless. The same depth, yet here I’m not scared to take the dive. Well, more like fly. I wouldn’t mind flying through his skies any day._ “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know… You were just… you, I guess.” He shrugged and they walked into the building.

❅

“Wow…” was all the both of them could get out.

The inside of the hall was gorgeous to say the least. The floors and walls lined with red velvet and the gold dividers separating the rows upon rows of people waiting to be seated all made the place radiate with an aesthetic of luxury. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and glittered like diamonds, and Keith thought to himself that the possibility that they _were_ diamonds was completely plausible.

He took off the multiple layers that were growing uncomfortable and sweaty now that they were inside and warm and he looked at Keith from the corner of his eye and couldn’t help but keep the thought that the boy was where he belonged, down.

Large halls like this were always where his confidence peaked and you could see it in the way his shoulders squared as if he were cradling his instrument in his arms right now for all to hear. As if he were apart of the orchestra himself, preparing to wow the crowd like they’d never been before; a smirk dancing across his face and shining in the limelight, sparkling just as the chandeliers dangling above their heads like spider webs lined with jewels.

“This feel like one of your recitals?”

“Yeah…”

“You ready for yours tomorrow?” Lance asked.

“Ready as I’ve ever been.”

❅

Sitting in the upholstered chairs, his body leaning closer and closer to the stage; Keith’s breath hitched at every conflict, every sudden drop in the orchestra’s tone that boomed throughout the room. Each sending a shiver down every listener’s spine. 

His leg shook in anticipation and the entire audience grew silent as one of the ballerinas glided onto the stage for her solo. He could imagine her practicing in her studio day and night, living and breathing the prospect of this moment. The way her leg raised into the air so effortlessly, her pirouettes looking as if she were the ballerina taken straight from a little girl’s music box; only less mechanical and more with the grace of a swan.

Lance looked over at Keith who was literally on the edge of his seat, eyes dazzling despite the darkness enveloping the crowd. There they sat. Hand in hand. The spiraling music, echoing against the walls; resonating in their souls, making this a moment they’d never forget. A sticky note tacked onto the inside of their brains that could never be removed.

And maybe that’s the way that things were just supposed to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ~  
> {3,174 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed <3}


	12. Day 11- Eleven Pipers Piping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy grabbed his violin, holding it delicately, but the wood still trembled from the tremor in his hands. He was about to walk up and face his fate, knowing he couldn’t play, not a single note with his hands feeling like they did. But just as he took his first step, he remembered something. Something in the pocket of his violin case; square shaped and daunting. But he had to try something.

Never in a million years did Keith think that that’s who he’d see tonight as he strode out onstage, shoulders squared and chest puffed; presenting himself like a peacock. The colors of the outfit he’d put together, on display for the entire audience, _his_ entire audience; dazzling against the stage lights.

Never did he think that that’s who he’d see tonight, sitting next to Lance, eyes bright despite the crowd being enveloped in shadow.

When he’d been backstage, floors creaking as he paced up and down the halls he listened to the other musicians prepare; watching them run their arms through the air as if they had a violin and bow in hand, playing the air’s wispy notes and the silence in between.

He remembered his first recital. When he’d sat backstage back then, his body could barely avoid being swallowed by the couch cushions in the waiting room. The air used to feel stale and free of oxygen as he struggled to breathe and calm his shaking hands. Because he knew he could never play with shaky hands. “Calm down,” Shiro had always said. “I won’t be able to hear your music if your hands are shaking. Your music deserves to be heard. You know that right?”

Shiro had been a teenager at the time, so he was likely nervous himself. Nervous for his foster brother. Nervous to see the little boy, innocence already stripped from his calloused fingers, pop any more pills of disappointment.

Keith had eventually gotten over it, the unrelenting jitters before his performances. Usually, these days, he sat. He sat and waited and remembered to breathe in and out as he watched the poor saps that still paced through the halls like chickens without heads; so afraid to mess up in front of such a large crowd.

But today, somehow Keith found himself pacing. Pacing and pacing and pacing and barely able to catch any breath in his lungs as if they were spotted with cuts and holes. He’d stopped and sat on the very couch he used to sink in, body, mind, and soul trembling down to his fingertips. He hadn’t understood what’d been going on when his vision seemed to blur or when he’d enveloped himself in his own warmth; cradled in his own arms.

When the clock struck four, he could feel his organs drop soundlessly to his feet. The uproar of applause meant that his opposing contestant was walking off stage, sweat probably pouring from her face. Not a single, dark hair askew. Nails manicured down to perfection. She reminded him of what Ronna would probably look like when she got older, the same tenseness in her shoulders matched with the soft sincerity of a proud smile.

Keith had stood up, his vision still blurred from the blood rush to his head. “Keith Kogane! You’re up next!” a man said from the front where Keith was technically supposed to be.

The boy grabbed his violin, holding it delicately, but the wood still trembled from the tremor in his hands. He was about to walk up and face his fate, knowing he couldn’t play, not a single note with his hands feeling like they did. But just as he took his first step, he remembered something. Something in the pocket of his violin case; square shaped and daunting. But he had to try _something_.

He unzipped the pocket. “Keith Kogane! Keith Kogane! You’re up in five!” He pulled out the ring box, felt its smooth material against his fingertips and recognized an, almost immediate, calming in his hands. “Keith Kogane! We need you up front! Has anyone seen Keith Kogane?” He pulled the ring out, a band patterned in thin, silver and black stripes. It slid onto his ring finger effortlessly as if it were coming home where it’d always belonged.

Immediately, the unsteadiness of his hands disappeared into nothingness; a memory soon forgotten and overtaken by others. The Ballet Bakery with Lance and Ronna. The café where he slept soundlessly on a cold, diner table with Lance’s fingers smoothing his greasy hair; now washed and glistening. The pool. Their kiss. It all came flooding back, flashback after flashback. The scenes depicted in soft, dim colors as if they were taken in polaroid.

And here Keith was now. Body steady and mind untouchable.

At least that’s what he thought as he strutted out, violin in one hand, bow in the other; highlights gleaming against every wooden curve.

This was the last person he expected to see. The last person he expected to be sitting next to the blue-eyed boy whose skin looked somehow even creamier in the dim light; contrasting Lance’s bright features with his dull, murky colored, orange hair.

_Matt?_

Keith almost stumbled when he walked toward the up-center of the stage, gripping his violin for dear life. When having reached his spot, his accompanist being seated with a loud wooden scrape of the piano seat legs that echoed and cut through the silence of the room, he could feel a slight jolt in his knuckles. Multiple actually. Starting slowly but eventually more and more coming in waves; crashing and crashing and crashing. He could feel the hairs of his bow rubbing up against his leg and hoped that none of them had snapped from the sudden pressure. _Why is he here? I didn’t invite him. Why is he just sitting there? Sitting there as if I just wouldn’t notice? What does he think this is?_

Keith looked out at the crowd, hearing a few whispers begin to pile up and echo throughout. “What’s he doing?” “Shouldn’t he have started by now?” “Even the accompanist looks confused.” “Definitely not a good start.” “He should really take this more seriously.” “It’s not like this is some third-grade talent show.” The judges tapped their pens against their clipboards and eyed him expectantly.

Just as he thought he might pass out right then and there, his body splayed against the fine wood, he looked at Lance. Looked at him and not Matt. His blue eyes. _God, those eyes_. Lance brightened seeing that Keith had been staring at him and gave him a warm smile and an encouraging thumbs up, having heard the whispers beginning to circulate, no doubt. At that moment, Keith eyed his accompanist with his bow out and back straightened, letting her know to begin.

The sudden noise struck the audience and their whispers fell silent. The first few notes were soft, almost dreamlike, so wispy you’d think they were the ghost of the original introduction. They flowed through the air light a summer breeze, thin yet unmistakable when you sit still and let them run along your skin sending goosebumps down your spine.

The mood through the entire hall changed. Fewer people judging through hushed whispers and more holding onto the arms of their chairs to keep from falling off the edge of their seats. The judges, despite their efforts to look unbothered, stared at the boy wide-eyed and mouths slightly gaping.

But Keith would’ve never known because his eyes were shut in concentration, relying on muscle memory to direct the music. Ignoring every sound and relying on every emotion whirling around the growing fire in his stomach. The pain of having lost Lance once and not wanting to repeat history. The joy of knowing that everyone he cared for was here to encourage him; Shiro, Lance, even Mrs. Dorona who’d made it possible for him to be there that night. His confusion in seeing Matt for the first time in weeks. The startled twinge in his heartbeat in knowing that the boy and Lance would have to meet. That Lance would have to eventually find out that Matt even existed, yet not fully understand that it didn’t mean Keith had moved on. _Not in the slightest_ , he thought.

His accompanist, Ruby, was younger than he usually went for a partner in big performances like this, but Mrs. Dorona had insisted they teamed up and, at this moment, he couldn’t help but thank his instructor who had, yet again, led him down the right path.

Her fingers moved across the keys as if she were the instrument itself and for a moment, Keith could barely comprehend if her fingers were actually even touching the keys. They’d decided to go fast-paced with this song, and Ruby had absolutely no issue keeping up with the tempo. Notes hitting at exactly the right time, pinging the audience, drawing their attention just when you think they’re drifting off too far. There was a spark of concentration in her eyes, so deep and powerful you’d think you’d burn your finger just brushing it along her skin.

She slammed the keys on one specific part that made even the judges jump in surprise which seemed to wake them up from the sleepy daze the previous contestants had put them in. They got to writing on their little clipboards as quickly as they’d been mesmerized by the music.

And by the end, Ruby was panting. Keith was rolling out his shoulders and stretching out his back knowing he needed a massage stat. He looked out onto the crowd and realized the audience was silent, so silent that he could hear his heartbeat prying at his chest. So silent, when his bow dropped to the floor, you could hear the sound echo through the room, against the velvet walls, wood clambering against wood.

Then, to his surprise, the audience erupted in applause and he could hear the screams of pure astonishment and praise that replaced the oxygen in the room. “Who is this kid?” “That was amazing!” “I guess he just needed a running start!” “Definitely worth the wait!” “There were some technical errors, but definitely one of the best yet.” He smiled awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders at Lance who he could’ve guessed was the loudest audience member there was. But beside him… Matt was seated quietly, hands clapping in a less flamboyant and explosive manner, giving Keith a soft, innocent smile.

❅

When Keith made it back to the entrance, he found Shiro, Lance, and Mrs. Dorona all waiting for him, beaming with looks of absolute pride. The sun behind them, reflecting inside from the glass walls made their bodies look so bright and almost angelic.

Matt stood idly on the side by the double doors and waved a silent hello. Keith waved back and speed-walked toward him, completely bypassing his loved ones that sat right before him. He just couldn’t bear to face them with this ghost breathing down his neck and sending cold shivers of the dead down his spine without at least knowing the reason.

His throat was dry and his arms were tired and his entire body ached for his giant blankets and a late-night movie session, but he knew wholeheartedly that this was something that had to happen if he ever wanted to be with Lance. _I do_ , he told himself. _I do, I do, I do_. The words inside his head repeating over and over until they were the only ones racing through his mind. An inner monologue with not variety.

“I do.”

“What?” Matt said, uncrossing his arms, clearly startled.

“I mean… um,” Keith had confused himself. Lance and the others walked away a bit to give the boy and Keith some privacy, but still shot him glances every second or so. “Sorry, but… Why are you here? Not that I don’t love the support, because I do, but why are you here? We are not together you realize that right, so why are you—”

“Before you go off on a rant, just know I’m here as a friend. I just remembered you mentioning you were playing here today, that’s all. And I wanted to talk. We didn’t exactly end things on good terms.”

Keith was already mentally groaning and growing nervous and impatient, the two feelings merging in his shaking hands. “Sorry about that… I was… it was kind of an impulsive response, but… I did mean it. I don’t think we need to be together. We’re… We’re _not_ together.”

“Yeah, I’m not dense. I get that. I just wanna be friends. You’re super cool and I would just still enjoy your company around… you know?”

Keith looked at Matt, frozen despite all of the movement around them. “Oh... _Oh!_ Well, that’s fine. I’m totally down for that,” he pursed his lips, “How about… How about you come… meet my boyfriend?”

“Oh! Is that the cute one who was sitting next to Shiro?”

Keith looked at the boy and raised his eyebrows, not expecting such an… unbothered reaction. “Yeah… Yeah! He is pretty cute, isn’t he?” The boy lowered his head and smiled as he guided Matt over towards everyone else. “Hey, guys! Thank you all so much for coming…” He gestured toward Matt standing next to him who was playing with the strings of his pink hoodie and said, “And this is Matt. He’s a friend of mine. Shiro, you know him already.”

Mrs. Dorona smiled and held out her hand, “Nice to meet you, Matt. Keith did you see th—” But Keith was off to the side now, speaking with Lance.

Lance looked down at Keith, his eyes cutting over to the pale boy talking with Shiro and said, “Okay, not to be overbearing and I really, really hope I don’t sound like a jealous brat but um… Who’s Matt? You’ve never mentioned him… to me at least.”

Keith felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach, but he knew that all he had to do was explain the situation before things spiraled out of control. “Look, I’m just gonna be honest. He and I went on a few dates while we were broken up. I was… I was just trying to move on. It clearly didn’t work because… as soon as you came back… I… I told him that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be with Matt knowing that I had someone perfect out there for me… I guess.”

“Well… Why’d you invite him today?” Lance asked, blinking away a few tears that were welling up inside him.

“I didn’t invite him. He just… showed up. But he said he came because well… I didn’t really let him say anything when we ended things. He just wants to be friends, that’s all. He said he enjoyed my company and that he wanted us to still hang out. You should’ve seen how excited he was to meet my _boyfriend_.”

Lance looked at him with eyes lit like fireworks. “Did you just…?”

“Plus, he thinks you’re cute.” Keith laughed, trying to cut through the tension. “But yeah… I don’t have that many friends anyway so, I think I should give him a try. And I need someone besides Allura to gossip about you to anyway. I mean, who else am I gonna talk about this beautiful ring to that I put on today. Technically I got it a while ago so this is pretty long overd—”

Lance cupped Keith’s face into his warm hands and kissed him softly like they were the only two people in the room. This pocket of the universe closed off to everyone but them. A black hole, no oxygen besides the handful that they shared. They pulled apart yet were still so close that they could feel the other’s smile rising on their lips.

And before they got the chance to look over at Shiro and Matt who were mocking them, blowing kisses in their direction and laughing hysterically, Lance’s phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket, clearly annoyed. He stopped for a moment, though, and Keith could see a sliver of panic lingering in his eyes.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s… my mom,” Lance said, “But… But she never calls me. This must be an emergency or something, excuse me for… just a sec.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ~  
> {2,661 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment if you enjoyed}


	13. Day 12- Twelve Drummers Drumming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a place I wanna show you. Would Shiro let us go out for a few hours?”
> 
> “What’s the place?”
> 
> “Tell him it’s a surprise.”

Keith sat idly by and waited for Lance to finish the call. Fingers stretching out and curling into fists, trying to direct the anxiety welling in his chest to somewhere other than his legs. His legs that wanted to race over there; to scream from the mountaintops about how his boyfriend deserved more than whatever terrible news he was receiving.

And he knew Lance was right. That mother of his never called, so this was probably urgent which only spiked his nerves to the point where they’d draw blood like a porcupine’s quills.

Because he spoke in hushed tones, Keith could only pick up bits and pieces of Lance’s conversation over the buzzing of people still scattered throughout the room like worker bees. Broken up bits of phrases and words, indecipherable as they wove through the white noise.

“Really?” “I mean… I don’t see why n—” “I agree, but—”

He could barely stand the anticipation and the multiple possibilities spreading through his head like wildfire, burned like hell. Eventually, growing tired of straining his ears, he walked over to Shiro and the others, his head hanging as if he were the one getting life-changing news.

“Hey kid, you did so well today!” Shiro said with a clap to Keith’s back. “Are you… Are you okay? What’s Lance doing over there all by himself?”

But before Keith had the chance to answer, Mrs. Dorona was rushing over from the results plastered on the wall, block heels clopping harshly against the tiled flooring. She gave him the tightest hug she could muster, eyes sparkling; face wrinkled from smiling so harshly. Hug so tight, it was obvious that she was a well-trained grandmother.

As she squeezed the wind out of his lungs, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is the life her granddaughter, Morry, had gotten used to. “You did amazing Keith!” she said, shaking him a bit by his shoulders “Did you even see your place? I didn’t see you check! Go look! Go look!”

He could definitely admit that all of the emotions that’d been stirring within him tonight, the nervous breakdown backstage, the discomforting—at first— surprise of seeing Matt, and the thrill of putting on Lance’s ring—that’d held such a weight in his pocket since he’d first gotten it— had all been pinging around in his mind so harshly, he was surprised that his skull was able to withstand the pressure. But now, the aftereffects had been hitting him hard, his brain feeling like an inflated balloon in too small of a space. And when they were finally coming to a rest, Lance got the phone call and that had sent him down an entirely different path of complete disregard for however he’d placed with his performance.

So, while his brain was avoiding unraveling into mangled strings, he’d forgotten that his performance was one of many in a _competition_. A competition in which others would kill to win that he simply brushed off the moment the music stopped and the crowd started. It made him think that maybe recitals were more his speed because, unlike all of these other people who wanted the trophies and the ribbons and the badges, he could live without the accolades as a representation of his self-worth. The cold metal and flimsy fabrics, nothing but dead weight in his hands.

He preferred the hushed compliments that bounced from person to person, the looks of astonishment and praise on everyone’s faces, including the judge’s, so entranced that applause was almost second nature when the piece had come to an end; when his bow was at his side as he bowed gracefully.

All of this running through his mind as he stared up at the results… with 1st place to his name.

Lance came up behind him and wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist, whispering a well-deserved, “Congratulations, sweetheart”; so soft, the dripping of water from a faucet in an empty house.

Keith snorted and put his hand on top of the ones wrapped around his waist and leaned back into Lance’s chest. “Is that what you get to call me now?” His voice at a whisper.

“I’d hope so.”

They sat there like that for a few minutes until Keith couldn’t bear to keep quiet a moment longer, curious as to what Lance’s mother had found so urgent.

“So… what did she say?” Keith asked. “Your mom, I mean.” But when Lance paused and didn’t respond immediately, he added, “Not that you have to tell me right away. I was… I just want to know if you’re okay is all.”

“Of course, you do,” he said, pressing a kiss to the boy’s cheek. “Because that’s just like you… caring about me and shit.”

“It’s just a lot. To wrap my head around, I mean. It’s just…” He sighed. “My mom is leaving my dad.” He said it so quickly, so quietly, like if he were to drag in out any longer, even the possibility of such a thing would slip through his fingers. He paused to gauge Keith’s reaction, but the boy had barely wavered, eyes closed, listening intently.

“And she wants to take us with her. She found an apartment. She apologized for treating us the way she has all these years. She realized that it wasn’t… fair to us, I guess. She said that she was just… so angry that my dad made her so angry inside… and that sometimes she let it slip out at the wrong people. She apologized to you by the way. She’s sorry about how she treated you at dinner.”

“It’s okay.”

“So, anyway. Because her and my dad aren’t even married, she doesn’t have to deal with the hassle of filing for divorce. She’s just… leaving. And she said it was our choice whether or not we wanted to come, but she really wants a fresh start that… involves us.”

There was another pause, so Keith decided to fill the silence. “Well… what are you going to do?”

“Well, Bean has to go with her. I have no doubt in my mind that my dad has no idea how to take care of a baby and that he couldn’t stay sober long enough to even learn. So, yeah… Bean is definitely going with her. She said that that’s her only condition. In her words, she ‘doesn’t want to give him the chance to mess up another member of this family’.”

“What about you and Ronna?”

“I think I want Ronna to go. My mom’s never really ever hurt her. You know she used to be a really good mother… Everything Paola does, that used to be her; bedtime stories and kisses on tears.”

“I remember that. Your mom was the nicest woman I’ve ever known. It was kind of scary seeing her so different. It was like she’d had the life sucked out of her…”

“Yeah, but, I guess that all stopped when her own tears started flowing. And I know Ronna loves her… a lot. So, yeah, Ronna’s going.” Another silence caught between their teeth.

“And you? We’re going off to college soon anyway, wouldn’t it make sense for you to go ahead and get your own place? You’ve already been accepted to the local college, right?”

“Yeah… I was thinking about that.” He turned Keith around slowly by his hips and said quietly, “You know what?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a place I wanna show you. Would Shiro let us go out for a few hours?”

“What’s the place?”

“Tell him it’s a surprise.”

❅

On the drive to wherever Lance so suddenly wanted to bring him, Keith sat in the passenger seat with the window cracked. Today was sunny and cold, his favorite mixture for the weather. The warmth of the sun drowning out the frigidness of the breeze that whipped his hair in every direction.

As they rode down the street, and as the car rumbled against the paved road, Keith couldn’t help but notice all of the familiar places that zipped by as he stared out the past the cars to the side.

They passed his favorite vinyl shop which is actually where he’d met Allura. She’d been the cashier there at the time, hair always pulled up into a wild ponytail, sporting pastels, contrasting the dark aesthetic of the shop she worked in. On his first day in, he managed to knock down an entire wall of records reaching for just one and she’d been there to help pick up the pieces. Upon noticing that he came in every day during her shift, they became friends almost instantly. Soon, figuring out that they lived close together and that they went to the same school and that they were both lgbtq+, the friendship sparked immediately; and it turned out that they were both just in need of someone to talk to, as we all are in a way. She helped him get out of the house every once in a while, inviting him out for coffee or dancing, and he helped her slow down to smell the roses every now and then with a good book.

When having stopped at a red light, he realized that a building casting a shadow over the car was Cardinal University; also known as his dream college and the only reason his instructor even suggested getting into wide-scale, violin competitions. It was a liberal college for musicians that he’d dreamed of going to since the tour he’d went on over the summer. The walls were mostly glass so that the students could sit by them and still see the grassy lawn out front decorated with gorgeous fountains and bed upon bed of brightly colored flowers that were all layered with frost this time of year. When inside, you could hear the faint sound of students practicing their instruments in their rooms through the walls or out in the common hall for hours.

The car accelerated again when the light turned green and Keith watched as the view of the university faded into the rear. They went on like that for the whole ride. The quiet despite the scratchy radio and the wind blowing in from the open windows and it was putting Keith slightly on edge considering he had no idea where they were going. But he trusted Lance to at least get them there safely so he sat back and continued to look out on the familiar scenery of the city. The Ballet Bakery, the park, the high school, the pool. All of these places that he knew like the back of his hand.

And when they finally came to a stop, it was a place that he didn’t know at all. The nostalgic feeling of familiarity fading as he scanned the group of buildings up and down that started to look more and more like an apartment complex. “Is this an apartment complex?”

“Yep.”

“You took me… to an apartment complex?”

“Yep.”

“Oh! Is this where your mom wants to move into?”

“Nope.”

Keith sat quietly now, confused, but interested and willing to see how things play out.

They parked in an empty slot and before they got out, Keith told Lance to wait as he fished something out from inside his vest and handed it to the boy in the driver’s seat. An envelope.

     “ The final day of Christmas belongs to you this holiday season.

       Day 12- Twelve Drummers Drumming

       I don’t really have anything that relates to twelve drummers drumming, but I did write this for you because you just… make me so happy and I couldn’t go twelve days without giving you something in return. I’ve imagined, hell I’ve lived, what life is like without you. And I’d never want to do it again. So… here you go:

_When you were gone, the sky still moved._

_Night to day like pages turned._

_When you were gone, the ocean, still blue_

_Drowned out every sound like you_

_In each book, same as yours, the dialogue_

_The twinkling of windchimes that the wind cuts through_

_Blue jays perched on my windowsill_

_But you weren’t there to see them bruised_

_But darling, don’t we deserve an epilogue?_

                                                                                                                                                                                Love, Keith “

“We do, don’t we?” he whispered, delicate, like China glass.  

Lance looked down at the paper, clutching it tightly. Then, with a quick, fond glance at Keith, he said, “Let me show you something.”

They got out of the car and Lance led them to an apartment door numbered with a gold _4204._

“I don’t understand,” Keith said.

Lance stood at the door with his hands in his pockets shifting back and forth to combat the cold. “Don’t you get it?” He took Keith’s shivering hands in his and said with a quiver in his voice. “I don’t want to move in with my mom… I don’t—” He cut his own self off, hands so cold they were bringing, “God, I can barely speak it’s so damn cold.” But with a bit of regained control, he continued. “ I don’t want that. What I want… is to move in… with you.”

Keith looked at him, letting the idea sink in, letting even the thought maneuver its way into his brain, even the possibility. “Wha— What?”

Lance looked at him nervously, not expecting such a vague answer, his self-confidence fading into the dark atmosphere, stumbling over his words. “Your college is just… I mean the college you wanna go to. It’s just around the corner. And… And mine is too. I figured… I mean we both get jobs and come stay here—” He was cut off by Keith pressing his hands to the boy’s chest and a soft kiss pressed to his lips; so cold it was as if he was swallowing snowflakes which would explain the flurry in his stomach. “Because darling,” he scrunched Keith’s note in his hand, holding onto it like it could float away any second, dragged by the winter winds. He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door.

Keith turned to him with a dopey smile, his limbs like putty with Lance’s grip on his waist. “We deserve an epilogue.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ⓈⓉⓇⒶⓌⒷⒺⓇⓇⓎ~  
> {2,374 words}  
> {don't forget to leave kudos/comment to let me know if you enjoyed}  
> a/n:   
> hey guys! just wanted to say i can't believe we're finally here... the end of 1 Year Until Now... i can truly say that writing this story has been quite the experience and it was so much fun to do :) i loved hearing about you guys's reactions and making a mood board and promoting it on tumblr {@keithislactoseintolerant} it was all just so much fun and i hope you guys enjoyed reading.. okay i'll let you get onto the story now and i bid all of you wonderful readers farewell until the next time i get inspo. to write something this long <3  
> also just putting it out there, i'd love to hear some of you guys's input on the story, critiques and all that... so if you're up to it, i answer asks pretty frequently on tumblr so just send me one letting me know your thoughts  
> okay, NOW onto the story :))


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